Prophecy
by Jademagic
Summary: The League is a dream, now, becauset this nightmare that began when the Thanagarians came is real. But in a world without heroes, without freedom, and without hope, where do they go for help? Who CAN help when they have a madman after their lives?
1. Part One: Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Justice League…

Raven: For once, she's not being crazy about not owning it….

A/N: I got the idea on how to order this fic from Artemis1088's fic 'Legacy'. Check it out, it's a good read. If you want to read the whole thing, though, you'll have to go to jlauniverse. **_READ IN ORDER_**Just be sure to put your reviews back on , ok? This is my take on 'Starcrossed'. Be advised: I have a very twisted imagination…

* * *

**Shattering Eternal**: Chapter One

* * *

Alone; she needed to be alone so that she could think. She needed to think because…she wasn't supposed to feel like this.

The towering trees laden with dark leaves loomed above her menacingly as they waved violently in the chill wind, and the short, stubby grass under her feet was slick with dew, left its signature in the form of a clammy, abrasive sensation that made its way even through the material of her boots; her gait over the fallen leaves prompted a thunderous cracking as they gave way to her weight's pressure that resonated throughout the near silence of the desolate area. She wished she had bought something to keep her warm, but her shivering was due as much to fear and unease as to the cold of the early atmosphere. Dark blues, hinted with reds and pinks, and fiery oranges escaped and broke through the thick layers of leaves clustered high above her head in an unfinished roof infrequently, the slender shafts a great contrast to the gaping black holes passing as shadows, swallowing the scarce light.

She needed to be alone, and here, she could be.

She didn't know how long she'd been walking, her head down, surveying the landscape; every foot matched every yard, matched every mile. Lost in her thoughts, she almost didn't notice the sudden brilliance of her surroundings. The dismal flora no longer clouded the horizon before her. It was all merely a small dark cloud far in the distance, a solid wall of plant life, thick and tangible behind her and to the sides, forming an extensive boundary. The suddenly vegetation-barren space startled her not because of the sudden lack thereof the plants, but of what had replaced it.

In the center, a large sphere, metallic and glinting in the waxing light, took residence. Around it, numerous tents and other shelters were placed erratically. The entire camp cradled an ambiance of death, and no creature stirred near here, not even the curious squirrels which had followed, chattering along beside her earlier. She sank to her knees, the heavy dew accumulating and soaking through her pants, drenching them. It couldn't be…

The insignia carved into the dome….the same insignia that had held her pride and her deepest dread and loathing since the day she was conceived; the same thing she had run from, soon as her legs were willing, and then to find it here, in the midst of everything that had happened…

Her heart began to race. It couldn't be; not here, not when she had finally thought it safe.

Slowly, silently, a flap of a tent was pushed outward by a wrapped and bandaged hand, followed by a scarred arm linked to a tired body that supported a somnolent head, its dull eyes blinking sightlessly out against the dawn. Slowly, silently, the exhausted feet tread cautiously out of the tent, moving toward the cowering figure on the edge of the trees, large, withered wings limp, tiredly dragging on the ground. With on thin hand, it reach out and gently rested on the trembling woman's shoulder.

Her eyes widened in fear, she looked up at the haunting face, and her frenzied heart tried to beat its way out of her chest. Her lips parted, allowing a jet of warm air to billow out and condense in the cold, carrying with it one inaudible word.

"No…"

* * *

"Master Joshua, I will kindly ask you to back away from the valuables," the English accented voice called from somewhere down the hall from another room.

The boy's progress up the display case was halted as he quickly descended, landing by another who rolled his eyes.

Joshua smirked before turning his head in the direction of the immense oak doorway, and cupping his hands around his mouth, yelled back, "My name is Bryant!"

"Regardless of rather you would like to be called by your first name, your middle, or you last, I have told you before, and the rules have not changed: you have more games than you know what to do with, and I'd hardly consider what's in that case anywhere near similar to any of it. _That _is very expensive, and _that_ is worth a considerable amount, both sentimentally and cash-wise." A young man had just strayed into the room, long, dark hair streaming behind him. He picked up the morose boy, and sat him on his shoulder. "But just between you and me, I gave you your name, and I would appreciate it if you would actually honor it, you know, just every once in while."

Bryant smiled. "Nightwing, you're –"

"No." The man suddenly stopped smiling. "…Don't ever call me that."

"Cue the comedian!" Wally exclaimed, red hair flying wildly about his still childlike face, and sauntered somewhat stiffly into the room. His laughing green eyes scouted the room quickly before he rolled them upward and slapped his head. "Oh, right, that _would _be _me_, right?"

"I'm going to go see if Alfred needs help," Dick muttered as he slipped Bryant off of his shoulders and swiftly brushed pass the others and out the door.

The older man stared sadly after Dick for a little while, worry lines deepening before smiling and turning to the boys. "OK, JB2, let's gather up the rest of the troops and get going, huh? Alfred promised to make strawberry shortcake for dessert tonight when we get back, how's that sound?"

Bryant and Brian yelled, almost knocking him over as they charged out of the room a good four feet above the ground. Wally hesitantly followed. He paused when a large crash and the enraged screech of girls reached his ears and stuck his head around the massive doorframe of the living room, peering in to asses the damage that had undoubtedly been done.

Nothing looked too bad.

Sighing, he turned to the girls as the boys gently floated to the floor. "Hey, girls, I'm going to take the boys to Zy'ghal, ok? We'll be back by dinner."

The two little girls who'd been glaring at Bryant and Brian both turned, one swinging raven locks, the other with strawberry-blond trestles streaming out behind her.

"Sure, Uncle Wally," the first and younger of the girls replied.

"Bye, Daddy," the older girl nodded, and then both returned to watching the TV.

"Ok boys, fall out!" Wally chuckled and rolled his eyes as the duo tore past him in a whirlwind. He turned around to find the remaining three boys, but was saved the trouble as they were already standing behind him. He stopped smiling as he met their eyes. Colton fidgeted slightly under his gaze.

"Joseph, Richard, you've been to the city before; you know what we expect of you while we're there. Adan, Joshua, Ishan…" He knelt before them. "I don't want any of you to leave my sight, under any circumstance. Everything you know, I want you to forget when we step outside of those gates. You no longer have any of the power you do. I don't want any adventures today. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

Colton bowed his head, his hands automatically finding their way to the pockets of his light blue hoodie.

"Things used to be easier," he whispered, raising his eyes to his father. "What happened?"

Wally stood, inhaling deeply and taking a slight step back as Richie and Brian traded glances over the top of Ishan and Colton's heads.

* * *

All four occupants of the room were sweating heavily. Seventeen hours, and counting, and Wally was sure he should have lost his resolve long ago, wasn't sure why he still stood steadfast.

Why had no one thought of this sooner? That there was a slightly larger chance that something could wrong? They'd had other things on their minds, admittedly, but… one of them should've been thinking of this moment, should have been considering that maybe things would go off just about as smoothly as everything else up to that point had.

The door opened, and Dick stumbled through it, his face pale and his teeth clenched as he let it close behind him. His eyes were dark as his feet carried him across the floor, toward the other end of the room, slowing as he glanced up to Tim, arms still folded over his chest, one foot tapping on the wall, head bowed, eyes rising to meet his own. Wally watched Shayera uneasily as her breath became shallower and she muttered something in Thanagarian that sounded suspiciously threatening to his manhood; Wally swept a hand through her hair reassuringly.

Dick resumed his place on the stool in front of Shy and began to give out orders again and Wally hesitantly but obediently stood from her side, moving away for a moment before beginning a haphazard parade around the room, feeling the need to do something other than stand in one place while doing nothing.

"Come on Shy, a few more," he coached as he swiftly jetted from one side to another, and then continued to traipse the rest of the room.

Dick glanced up from where he crouched before Shayera, an annoyed expression taking residence on his normally peaceful features. "Wally, if you want to be of help, _stop_ pacing around the damn room and go keep an eye on the kids. You're giving me a fucking migraine headache!" Wally stopped his marathon over the white tiled floor.

"I promised John I'd stay by their side." He shook his head, walking to stand beside Shay; he offered her his hand, which she squeezed gratefully. Solemnly, his emerald eyes rose to meet Dick's.

He swallowed hard, shook his head again. "I don't plan on breaking that promise anytime soon."

"…Fine, but _someone_ go get them; I don't want them to come in here," Dick muttered, turning back to his work as a very pale Tim, eyes wide, nodded his head vigorously and ran out of the room at speeds that matched Flash.

Shayera bit back a scream as pain wit renewed strength ripped through her, and Wally had to fight not to promptly drop her hand and faint. The color drained out of his face. He tightened his grip and climbed on the bed behind her. Still gripping her hands, Wally was fairly confident that her grip was nearly breaking every bone in his own hands.

Dick didn't say verbally ask a question, but his raised eyebrow spoke volumes to Wally, who had wrapped his arms comfortingly around Shayera and had her braced against his chest.

Flash glared back at him, and Dick had to admit he'd seldom seen Batman as angry. "I _think_ I'm trying to keep her calm, and make sure both of them come out of this… _alive_." Dick's gaze faltered, but he refocused his attention.

"Come on, just one more, and it's all over. Come on: one, two, three, PUSH!" Dick and Shayera yelled simultaneously.

The yelling faded away.

"Why isn't he crying?" she asked, voice wavering, their accentuated breathing all that punctuated the reigning silence. Wally gazed down at her, his eyes heavily dark.

Shayera buried her head in his shoulder, and Wally felt the spot slowly moisten as he gently rubbed her back, still embracing her as much for himself as for her; he couldn't force him to watch as Dick handed the child to Alfred. Alfred walked toward the other side of the room, gently cradling the small, warm child protectively to his chest as Dick turned back to complete his work.

Miniscule, intricate wing buds were on the child's back; the tiny, damp, clustered downy feathers felt odd to him as he laid the baby down, gently began cleaning it as a flame trembled in his eyes. He closed the scissors in his hand quickly, placed them and the umbilical cord to the side in a bin, his hands still as steady and nimble and aware of what they were doing as ever. Alfred continued to hold the child as he quickly cleared its nose and mouth. The child's skin looked paler than it was as he gently washed away the blood and gray, revealing the soft red tint the child's skin carried for now.

It was too small for any of the clothing to fit properly as he laid the child down on the, and he left the soft, dark brown curls laid firmly to its head for the moment free as the cap would have probably been too large, too. The water bit his lithe hands as he disposed of the gloves and washed away the blood on himself, and he wrapped the child snuggly into the yellow receiving blanket lying tousled nearby.

He turned back to Shayera, cradling the bundle to his chest, smile as Dick glanced slowly over his shoulder to him, smile playing over his lips suddenly as he met Alfred's eyes. He looked up at Shayera. "How did you know it was a boy?"

"How can you smile?" Shayera queried, her voice shaking with rage now as much as sorrow. Wally found that he had to struggle greatly to restrain her, and he leaned down to try to speak to her, but he himself was close to laughing, found he couldn't operate his tongue. She looked at him in question, her eyes still quivering, still shining with unshed tears. Wally merely shook his head, gently pushed her head to face Alfred as he approached them again.

Dick quickly stood, coming around the opposite side of the bed and gently kissing her cheek, carefully not to touch her directly. "He's fine, Shayera; he's perfect."

"He's stubborn," Wally corrected. "Wonder where he gets it from…" Hiss chuckle grew as tears slowly slipped from his eyes and Alfred transferred the small boy from his arms to his mother's. His small, round eyes were closed, his nearly translucent lids heavily pulled over them with long eyelashes, the miniscule blue veins almost visible, his slender, tiny fingers gripping the blanket he was wrapped in tightly, the small, laughing mouth…

He was laughing; he was actually…laughing. His mouth was open and for the briefest moment, he gurgled almost inaudibly, his lips turning up so minutely at the corners.

"He's his father's son, huh? Crazed madman…" Wally held Shayera tighter.

The contagious smile finally took over Dick's face; he removed the gloves he wore and grabbed gratefully for the towel Alfred offered him. His hands were cool, still, as he gently brushed a fingertip over his slightly color touched cheeks, but the boy's smile grew. Dick couldn't stop his own smile from becoming larger, either. "Laughing: not as traditional as _crying_, but I don't know…might just make him a happier person...."

"It _is _the way of the house to never have a … dare I say, _normal_, entrance," Alfred chuckled. "I do believe Master Joshua had a similar experience…?" His gaze fell to Dick, whose smile faltered only slightly as one of his hands clinched tightly. Alfred rested a hand on his shoulder. "You've done it again, Master Richard. Well done."

Dick shook his head. "This one was all Shayera."

Shayera kissed the boy's head, held him to her as if he would suddenly be taken away, and Wally squeezed her shoulder reassuringly as he sadly met her eyes. No one spoke for a few moments.

Wally finally broke the silence, chokingly clearing his throat. "John said to….to give him this." His fingers found their way into his shirt neck, and retrieved a necklace with a green ring dangling on it. Fingers fumbling, he slid the necklace over his head, undid it, and removed the ring; he handed it to Shayera.

She felt the boy stir and looked down, directly into his bright green eyes, his fingers reaching outward as they brushed her hand, brushed the ring.

"You know," she whispered, lowering her head so that her check brushed the top of his head, "your father? He was a good man. He loves you, I don't want you to ever forget that. Not even when you're older, and even though you never got to meet him…know that he was kind, that his love for us is great; and always keep that close to your heart, ok?" She gently kissed him again, and let his tiny hand grip the ring tightly.

"This is yours; only once you're older, though," she chuckled.

"You should be proud of him, Little Man," Wally whispered, lowering his head next to Shayera's. "And don't mind your mom; it's just hormones." Wally grinned wickedly as Shayera shot him a reproachful glance that was strongly countered by her smile.

"He'll always be proud of you," she continued. "For forever and a day…Johnathan Ishan Stewart."

His lids slid closed again, he breathed deeply and Wally hugged Shayera tightly again.


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Yeah, well, I own the computer, so just get over it…what? I don't even own that?!?!?!

A/N: Yes, 'Water Runs Dry' chapter 7 is up and running. The previous chapter is to show you where each part of the story stand so that it won't get too confusing; from now on the, chapters will be much longer. Stick with me, even if you get a little bit confuzzled (my friend's word, not mine). Sit tight, buckle your seatbelts, and get ready to take a high-speed ride through the mind of one twisted individual! YEAH!!!!

Ishan: You might have wanted to add 'pray for your sanity'.

* * *

**Shattering Eternal**: Chapter Two

* * *

"…Shayera?" the hoarse voice whispered, and she felt her knees buckle. Why did this have to happen now? What could she do? She hadn't thought that _he'd_ be here. She hadn't thought she'd see him again at all… at least, not this soon;… she'd forgotten it would eventually happen. She couldn't see very far from her place where she'd been standing moments before at the entrance; the ominous gloom was broken only by the faint glow of numerous primitive lamps, set strategically in the interior. The shadows on the sides danced wildly, creating great looming figures, intimidating in their own right. Moving farther into the darkness, she kneeled beside him, and flinched when his hand reached out and gently rested on her own, still shaking badly.

She watched the face, though barely visible, wince in two different pains; the first from her flinch, the second from the first.

She could hear the fatigue in his voice, the wind blowing over dead leaves, as he began speaking again. "Shayera…what have they done to you?"

Her mind yelled that all they had done to her was show her how amazingly stupid the whole thing was, given her the building blocks upon which she'd built her desire for all of it to end, but her trembling voice disobeyed.

"What happened?" She heard herself asking the question, but she wasn't the one who asked it, her voice shaking with unauthorized concern, her body shaking with sheer horror.

His chest heaved heavily, as if it were trying to lift a load too heavy for it to carry, the stars that weaved their way over the pale skin stretching.

Hawkgirl stiffened but didn't turn as she had dropped her mask at her feet in surprise. The girl had apparently been trying not to breathe, but she'd shuddered, sniffing as she shakily drew in breath.

She spoke gently to the girl, in her own tongue, and the girl became rigid, nodded her head limply, eyes wide in fear and anguish. She disappeared back through the make-shift entrance of the crude 'room'.

How long had they been out here before she wonder upon them for him to be this bad? If he was like this…she couldn't even begin to imagine what state whatever others there were were in…Hawkgirl scooped up her mask from the ground near the thick gray mat and slipped it on, eyes firmly shut. She opened them when her chin was gripped loosely by a rough, but fragile hand.

"You came back….to me?" he asked, eyes closed, chest heaving with effort to breathe. His lips were parched, and it seemed to cause him pain to part them and allow his strained vocal cords to emit barely coherent phrases.

"Lieutenant?" Hawkgirl nearly jumped at the small voice, whatever trail of thought she'd had in response dropped indefinitely.

"May I…?" She hesitantly presented the jewel embroidered, red clay bowl, its dark contents sliding over itself almost inaudibly

Hawkgirl moved deftly to the side to allow the small girl to kneel down beside him. She gently eased the upper part of his body up and supported him with her left arm clumsily. The girl held the spoon in her right hand and attempted to slide the steaming, sticky substance into his mouth, wincing when the scolding liquid spilled a little on herself. The man coughed and sputtered as it slipped down his parched throat. She repeated the process, spilling less this time, and then gently rested his head back on the dark gray mat again.

"Who are you?" Hawkgirl's voice made the girl jump.

The girl bowed her head and matted, unwashed midnight locks tumbled over her thin face. "….Herin would have my wings if he found out about my behavior, not introducing myself to such a figure as yourself. I am H'ryah."

"You are a child."

H'ryah shook her head before looking back up and sweeping the hair out of her face so that she could gaze at Shayera with her storm gray eyes, haunt with weakness. "Herin would not believe I am behaving with such silliness in the presence of one such as yourself; if _–when_ we get back –he shall tell our fa –" she suddenly stopped and her grew wide as she backed up, as if she's said something she shouldn't have. She cast a hurried glance to now unconscious Katar before beckoning Hawkgirl farther into the nearly empty tent and away from his sleeping form.

She led her back from the room and out of the tent, pausing only briefly, not in search of her way but for other life before guiding her through the tents that lay around the one they'd just emerged from. She pushed through the opening of one, quickly racing pass those lying prone on identical mats in neat rows for what appeared to be the back of the tent, but revealed another section.

A boy glanced up, fire leaping in his eyes as H'ryah appeared, and he moved to rise, wincing, and keeping his support on his right side. He froze as Hawkgirl came into view. The little color in his cheeks drained as his haunting eyes widened. The stiff air suddenly seemed unable to reach his lungs as he grasped for more breath more often, feeling his stomach flip and his supporting arm shudder. H'ryah ran to his side as he nearly toppled over, whispering silently to him, her eyes trained on him, his eyes trained on Hawkgirl. H'ryah seemed to be chastising the boy as she brought attention to the deep green tunic he wore, the gold trim and velvety material dry, but stained with blood that clustered an area from above his hip to the point where his wings connected with the skin on his back on his left.

He hissed at her, his wings lowering even as he cringed and averted his eyes from Hawkgirl's face. H'ryah halting mimicked his behavior.

Hawkgirl stared at the two of them for a moment.

The boy swallowed hard as H'ryah's eyes moved upward briefly to gauze Hawkgirl's expression.

* * *

"Would you two Bat-demon spawn stop it already?!?" Tim asked exhaustedly as Bryant and Brian continued their squabbling as they all walked along the sidewalk. Ishan held his hands behind his back and kept his wings as small as possible, as if he were trying to hide them as his bright green eyes roamed their surroundings, Colton fidgeting at his side. Richie was talking quietly with Dick, matching every step.

They'd long ago stumbled from the clove of trees concealing the manor set high behind them, and found themselves skirting the edge of a park. The young boys, clothed in uniform weightless, gold material that resembled shorts or pants, sat unmoving on the slightly raised platforms in the park's lawn, the young girls with them though bearing silky white, sleeve-less shirts. Thanagarians, like the majority of the children, their hair snow white and hanging pass their shoulder to almost tangle up in their thick beards, walked among the little rows, mumbling in their native tongue as birds chirped overhead.

Ishan pulled at the neck of his hoodie and stiffly moved his wings as he wiped sweat from his face.

"You'll be glad of it when we get to Zy'ghal," Drake informed the boys suddenly as they turned a corner, the park suddenly falling away from them and the large, towering guarded golden gates in the barrier around the city rose before them.

Passing through them, suddenly, the temperature began to steadily decrease, and Colton shivered at an accelerated speed, trying to warm up.

"Do you have any idea how _irritating_ that is?" questioned Richie as Colton stopped and pulled his hood over his head. He was answered with a blue-eyed glare. Richie himself was beginning to shiver, and Bryant and Brian had given up arguing to focus on keeping themselves as warm as possible.

Ishan moved closer to Wally, and by then, the boys had trapped themselves between the adults and were shivering together in the increasingly cooling atmosphere. The sky seemed to grow darker as they kept going, and Colton was starting to get jumpy.

"Don't worry; we won't be here long, guys," Wally promised as he scooped up Ishan again. Houses of the same mute, non-distinct color were arranged in elaborate patterns, held off to themselves and separated from similar systems by unpainted wooden fences that reach to Wally's torso. Across from them, lush green swept out from them like the ocean from the sand. Voices whispered through the air as a silent excitement charged the atmosphere around them. There were a few shouts, and children –unlike before, mostly human– spilled from the lawn. Bryant stiffened as a young girl swept pass him; she turned briefly, bright blue eyes catching his for only a moment. She turned from him and continued, a boy dragging her away by the hand. The sea of children swept around Bryant until he was tugged swiftly. He looked around and into Brian's worried gaze.

"What did you see?" He seemed nervous.

Bryant shook his head and trudged up behind Tim.

Cars swept pass them as they walked on, finding themselves under the cover of trees for what seemed like an eternity before emerging. The people surged through through the streets and along the large stone squares large enough to hold a few wings of the manor lined up beside the street and before the shop fronts. The images of the Elders graced the center of each, the black stone statues resting upon fountains that spat forth a dark blue liquid, assorted tables and benches radiating from them.

Colton stuck his hand under a sprouting fountain and stared at it in wonder. He turned as a boy about his age tore himself from his brother's grasp and placed himself at his side.

"_Kiyaght!"_ he exclaimed happily, dipping his hands into the water and gulping the liquid he'd gathered into it. He smiled to Colton at his side and repeated blissfully, "Cold! And so sweet!"

"What is it?" he questioned.

"Water," the boy shrugged, his wings folding in on themselves as he leaned over the edge of the fountain. He grinned. "Dare ya." Colton didn't need an elaboration; he clambered up beside him, hesitantly glancing to Ishan, still riding in his father's arms.

The boy leaned over, reaching for the sparrow that had landed on the head of the stone mace the statue leaned against. His eyes widened and he lost his balance and nearly toppled in. Colton blinked, and the boy was standing on the ground. His brother was already grabbing him in anger and dragging him away.

"Adan…" Wally began, his face beginning to match the color of his hair as he glared at his son. He was in trouble; nobody, and nobody, called him 'Adan'. He scrambled down quickly.

"I don't know _what_ I'm going to do with you. You should _know _better. It's not safe for you, not even here. _Especially_ not here."

"Then why even bring me?" Colton hissed icily at Wally.

"_They're parents are the Thanagarians." _Wally frowned. "Don't you get that?"

"So _they're _responsible for their parent's actions? _They're_ to be _blamed_ for the things their parents did?"

"_I never said that_ –"

"But that's what you're implying!" Colton's face was beginning to match his father's. "The way you talk, you make it seem like they're bloodthirsty demons. Maybe I've got a crush on a Thanagarian girl. What are you going to do about it?"

"First off, no worries about _any_ girls until you're at least thirty, so I've got plenty of time to prepare for those nightmares," Wally muttered as he held his head. "…I merely ask that you not make yourself known to them, or vice-versa."

"You might as well tell me to stay away from Ishan. _His_ mom's Thanagarian, too!"

"That's different," Wally mumbled, barely audible.

"_How?_"

Colton, breathing hard, watched his father in silence before stomping pass him and Tim, who was approaching and looked troubled. Colton planted himself between Ishan and Bryant's on the curb, crossing his arms in anger and staring hard at the street.

"…what happened?" Tim questioned as Wally finally registered he was still breathing.

"I don't want to talk about it right now…" he trailed off, the limp in his leg seeming accented as he disappeared into the dark store. The windows facing the street were filthy, making impossible to distinguish anything inside, and the poor lighting that barely illuminated the interior wasn't helping with the vision problem.

Tim glanced between the boys and the shop; he and Dick both had warned them at least three times to stay there and not to go looking for trouble.

He swept into the store, still frowning.

The only problem was, trouble always found them.

* * *

"Must you be so difficult?" Shayera asked the boy as she gathered him into an oversized towel that swallowed him whole. He simply looked at her with his too adorable, emerald green eyes, then opened his mouth into a wide grin as if he either didn't understand a word that was coming out of her mouth, or he did, and couldn't care more about her concerns on him being 'difficult'; he verified the latter theory by taking the advantage of his close proximity to the water. Using one tubby hand, he grabbed as much water as he could manage to keep from slipping through his chubby fingers and splashed it all over both his and her face.

"I give up!" she laughed as she hugged him to her and carried him out of the bathroom and to his crib in his room before wiping both their faces free of the dripping water.

Setting him in his bed, she turned to grab the lotion; she about-faced and moaned playfully as the boy continued to beam after having successfully kicked away the towel he was wrapped in. Rolling her eyes, Shayera rubbed her hands together, the lotion rolling between them before she tackled the chore of getting it on the squirming child. She started with his stomach, which only tickled him to no end and caused him to try to wiggle away from her hands. She turned him over and began on his back, but he kicked his now slippery, lotion covered legs and tried to crawl away, beating the growing wings on his back to help with his attempt, though to no avail.

"Honestly…" Shy turned him over again and retreated temporarily to get a diaper. "You better be glad you're so damn cute." The baby squinted and smiled again as he grabbed his feet as if to say 'And don't you ever forget it'.

Shayera turned, unsurprised at the gaggle of toddlers now surrounding the crib.

"Would you like to help me get this little beast dressed again today?" she smiled.

"All the girls gots to turn around, though" Bryant smirked as he looked around at Chris and Raven on the other side of the crib and narrowed his dark eyes.

"He _is_ our cousin, too, you know," Chris muttered as she closed her green eyes and turned her head, causing her strawberry blond pigtails to be thrown around and land on her shoulders.

Raven was too concerned with keeping her small form on the edge of the crib to worry about what Bryant was saying.

"You, too, Raven," Bryant insisted, and Raven looked up, her mouth still on the railing. She let go of it and gazed at him for a moment, then titled her head to one side. "Close your eyes!" he said again and this time he demonstrated so that there was absolutely no question of what he meant.

"Leave her alone; she's only two," Richard pushed him slightly and Bryant almost fell to the floor. Regaining his footing, he frowned and stuck out his blue-dyed tongue; more than sufficient evidence of the Popsicle he wasn't supposed to have.

"Just because she's your sister doesn't mean she can be excused; she's still a girl," Bryant argued as he poked at the Michelangelo on Richie's shirt.

"So?" Richie asked, poking the Spiderman figure on Bryant's.

"So, I'd like to diaper my son before he needs another bath," Shayera broke in, effectively bringing the arguing to a close.

"But you got to close your eyes, too, Aunt Shy!" Bryant yelped as he finally lost his balance and landed hard on his rump. "You're a girl, too," he mumbled as he rubbed his sore behind.

"I'm also his mother and the only person in this room capable of putting on a diaper," she reminded the fallen child as she helped him back up to his precarious place standing beside Richie. "So, unless you think I can do this blindfolded, I think I'm going to have to keep my eyes open, right?" she suggested as pulled up the boy's legs and placed the diaper under his bottom.

"…I guess," Bryant shrugged finally as Shayera handed Colton the powder.

"Just don't go –" Shayera's warning was interrupted as the-fastest-toddler-alive gave the bottle a good shake and was rewarded with a large, white, powdery, fog-like cloud that caused temporary blindness before it finally settled in the now completely white crib.

"–overboard." She wiped the powder from her eyes and laughed. The toddlers blinked momentarily, their hair now the same identical shade of white. "I guess my work here is done." She handed Chris and Colton his t-shirt which they pulled over his head, careful of the still small wings on his back. They helped Bryant haul him from the tangled mess of white bathed blue sheets; Raven tried to maneuver Ishan's kicking legs into the over-alls Brian held.

Richie reached into the crib again, and the boy reached out his own hand to the familiar, nonchalant boy; he and Brian pulled him carefully out of the crib and into Richie's, arms who fell to the rug in the center of the bedroom floor. He held up Ishan so that he was in a standing position and could rest his weight on his legs while still being supported by Richie, but Ishan didn't seem in favor of this plan, and with a gum filled grin, he pulled his legs up and locked them under himself. Bryant laughed as Richie tried to get Ishan to stand up, but the baby merely shook his head and continued to refuse Richie's pleading.

"Just put him in his walker, Richie," Shayera smiled as her son was lifted into his walker by his over exuberant 'cousins', clapping his hands. Ishan eagerly spun the toys on the walker tray as his face lit-up and he laughed.

"I'm going to go clean up the bathroom; stay where Wally can keep an eye on you, ok?" she instructed as she turned around and began walking away from the room. Brian and Richie began to push Ishan out after her.

"What is this?" Chris asked suddenly, and all eyes turned to her.

Ishan reached out his hands to grab the slip of paper, being the curious eight-month old his was, and was handed the picture without a fight.

"Let me see –"

"Dada!" Ishan screamed as he bounced in his walker, cutting off his mother.

"What?" Richie frowned and looked back at Shayera to see a similar expression on her face. He slowly walked from the back of the walker to the side to see the paper Ishan was cooperatively holding still. "What's he –" he stopped, glancing up at Shayera with wide eyes, frozen.

Shayera gently pulled Ishan into her arms even as Brian and Colton gave each other a puzzled look and Raven craned to observe what was suddenly Forbidden, with a capital 'f'.

"….where…" Shayera began, delicately removing the picture of the League from his chubby fingers.

They were gathered in the common room; Wally was whooping about something animatedly in front of the TV, controller still in hand even as Hawkgirl threatened him with her mace and Clark was diving for a game console that was close to hitting the floor. Bruce was still intent over a device he held over the coffee table about to be tipped over, and Diana stood furiously with the ice cream that hadn't landed with the bowl on Bruce's head covering her bustier. J'onn was on the floor beside her, carefully picking up broken Oreo fragments.

Familiar tears stabbed Shayera's eyes; memories of the way they once were, happy, content, still brought tears, but that wasn't why she cried now. Not the complete reason, anyway.

"Dada," Ishan repeated with less enthusiasm, almost sadly as his fingers brushed over the still image of John's unbelieving, laughing face.

* * *

Herin, H'ryah, and Shayera sat in silence as Shayera cleaned Herin's wound and he strained not to wince as she touched him; accepting help still wasn't exactly something at the top of his 'favorable things' list.

"I was supposed to be killed." H'ryah shrugged.

"We're going back home, soon," Herin quickly began, flinching slightly as he sat straighter. "There were… complications in the schedule." Herin frowned as the word rolled on his tongue. "We're going home because the Lords fear that the completion of the soldiers' job has been compromised by the slight problem we ran into."

"It was father," H'ryah whispered, breaking the silence. Herin quickly shot her a look that clearly said she should close her mouth. H'ryah dropped the thin, stark white gauze strips she'd been wrapping, stared back at him evenly, but spoke to Hawkgirl.

"Our father has great influence in high places. Mother died when we were born. I was supposed to be killed. Herin was weak, but I was weaker. Father said we would both live, and that was the end of it."

"He wasn't supposed to do that," Herin added roughly, emphasizing each word as his voice slowly rose in volume. "He's only _one_; he _isn't_ supposed to_ authorize_ _anything_ without consent from the _others_. _Nobody_ can know that H'ryah is alive; _not yet_." He paused and stared to his side at Hawkgirl. "She's_ still_ a _child_; they can still _kill_ her without questions. They _can't _know; _no one _can know."

"They have no idea you have a sister?"

"They have no idea I have a_ twin_." Herin's glare hardened. "Lieutenant Hol… our father should have been killed. The decision he made should have been considered a betrayal to the good of our world. …why didn't they simply kill him? The Lords have killed before, what would a man and two more children be? Much less one? The Commander… they raised him. They raised every important member of our world with authority only second to their own under their own guidance and molded them into what they are today. Why didn't they?"

"The world you know now wasn't always Thanagar. We have been at war forever, true, but we as a people didn't center our life so firmly around our fighting. There was a time when real feelings, other than anger –love …_passion_ –were what drove us, the promise of being able to return to a welcoming embrace was what we fought for, not the taste of blood on our lips. The feeling of drawing another's life from their body with your own hands wasn't tasteful; it was duty." Hawkgirl stopped, her eyes narrowing slightly, her gaze lowering; she finally pulled the tattered, dark green shirt back down over Herin's chest. His breathing had thinned.

"The Lords were rebelled against by the very things their hands had helped create. Not all of them, of course, but more than enough." Hawkgirl's tone grew gravelly. "They decided the old ways weren't working; our blood was still being lost, and we were no closer to an end. They tried to pull them apart, strip them down until there was nothing left, but…they forgot that everything they were was what the Lords had shaped. They were disposed of, but their wishes became a wildfire and spread…" Her tone grew harder, melancholy distaste lacing each syllable side by side with regret, empathy. "The Lords suddenly had blood unlike any other on their hands, and in their fury at what they'd allowed to happen, had developed with such careful precision without even realizing it, they fell to the idea that things needed to change."

Herin's jaw tightened, as did a fist at his side, but he remained silent, and Hawkgirl seemed to have failed to notice the sudden change in his behavior. She signaled he could stand.

Hesitantly, he did so, assuming the conversation was over. Herin made his way to the wall of the enclosure that stood between them and the outside. He slowly pushed back the non-distinct colored material and hesitantly stepped outside. H'ryah followed haltingly.

Hawkgirl pushed aside the rough partition once they disappeared to the other side. Herin and H'ryah were statues as they stood, gazing up at the stars, arms crossed. H'ryah's wings fell over both her and her brother's shoulders as she leaned on him. He didn't flinch even as she brushed against the sore and tattered feathers of his wing, grabbing her hand in his own and squeezing it reassuringly.

Hawkgirl looked back down the small hill instead of casting her gaze upward with them. She shouldn't have been surprised at how extensive the make-shift camp was, the astonishing fleet of soldiers and fledglings there were; she had almost single-handedly nursed all of them gradually back into health in the past two months, after all, but the vast sea that was the camp still overwhelmed her with its abundancy.

"Do you think…" Herin faltered, drawing his breath and catching his lower lip briefly with his teeth. "Our father told us that mother used to say 'every single star is a planet; some are tiny, some are large, some are the same size as our own, but each is significant in its own way, and special all the same; Thanagar is special, and don't we live on one that has much to live for'. …Do you think that it's true?"

"I've heard similar things," Hawkgirl cautiously replied. "But never when I was on Thanagar; I never had the time or the chance to gaze at stars. You're lucky that you had a father and a mother who appreciated such things, even more so that they believed it enough to pass it on and share it with you. So much has been lost in your time that we once took for granted…"

H'ryah nodded in understanding to Hawkgirl's answer. "If it's true…do you think that maybe one of those is Thanagar?"

"I've…often looked up at the stars, more recently, and wondered that myself…" Hawkgirl gazed up. "But…it's funny; I haven't felt pulled to it…not like I used to, and even when I was younger, I always felt like maybe there was something else pulling me away, and it was much stronger than any hold Thanagar could possibly hope to ever have on me." She sighed heavily. "And now, I've told you too much and you'll surely be in trouble."

"You could get in trouble for knowing what we are, too; I don't see you trembling in your armor."

"Why should we?" agreed Herin.

"I think we should go in; it's possible for you to become sick as the environment of Earth is so much different than Thanagar."

"Yeah," Herin nodded as the three retreated back to the tent and he held it open so that they could enter. "It's much colder here."

"In more ways than one, believe me," Hawkgirl smiled. H'ryah continued to stand as Herin soon joined them and sat with little difficulty on the mat.

H'ryah moved toward the exit.

"I have much to attend to," she explained as she began to walk out, but she suddenly stopped and turned so that she could see Shayera."Lieutenant Hol," H'ryah began suddenly. "You told us that not long ago, love was what drove Thanagar and her people and their lives. But things changed, and… for us, every piece of individualism and feeling has been all but wiped out; at least, on a recognizable and meaningful level. You say things were better, then; not great, but better than now. Did you ever have those feelings? I mean… did you ever actually love someone? Someone who you would have never thought would mean anything to you? That you hardly knew enough about to believe that it was…_love_…but you knew there was absolutely no other explanation, as illogical as the one warranted seemed?"

Shayera smiled as she let her emerald eyes meet the storm-ridden sky H'ryah's eyes reflected.

"Yes; and there is nothing better than finding it in someone who loves you back."

* * *

Bryant's jaw tightened. "I'm bored!"

"What's taking them so long?" muttered Colton. He rested his arms on his knees and lowered his head, searching with his sky-blue eyes for something to keep him preoccupied.

Brian merely shrugged as he swept a hand through his raven hair, his locks falling easily back into their semi-neat state instantly. Bryant glared as his brother as he stood angrily over Colton, and Richie let his dark blue eyes wonder warily between them.

"I'm not sure why it's taking so long," Richie spoke abruptly as he watched Brian finally pick up on his brother's gaze, and return it. "They'll probably be finished soon, though, and I'd kind of like not getting in trouble," he continued pointedly, glancing from one brother to the other.

"What does trouble have to do with anything?" Bryant spit acidly as he clenched his fist at his side, advancing from his place lounging on the base of the fountain they sat before.

"You do always seem to find it." Directing the inherited glare down at Ishan, who sat with his wings pulled close to his slight form, Bryant shoved his fists into his pockets and retreated; anyone else, he would have indefinitely clocked them then and there, but with Ishan, he had to content himself with a glower and a growl.

"Ishan," warned Richie. "At least _try_ and avoid trouble?"

"Considering it goes against my family prototype…" Ishan excused himself with a slight tug at his lips, but his wide green eyes were still narrowed.

"Don't we know it?" Brian didn't elaborate, and for a moment, everyone was thrown into an uncomfortable state. He shifted from one foot to another before coming to stand behind Ishan, gently resting a hand on his shoulder as if asking for forgiveness and trying to comfort him at the same time.

"…I don't really remember that much about them, you know? Not even my own mom and dad," he told him quietly after his hand lay resting for a few moments.

"I know," he answered just as inaudibly, but didn't look up at him. Brian stared at him through narrowed eyes for a moment before he sighed and lowered himself down to sit on the sidewalk beside him.

"…I could tell you some of what I remember; you know…sometime. It just…still hurts some," he explained, stumbling over his words as he felt his chest slowly tightening.

"I'd be surprised if it didn't," Bryant mumbled, though without his usual sneer. His face held a thoughtful expression, his dark blue eyes moving to linger on his brother's face. His eyes were telling him he was watching Brian, but his mind was telling him otherwise. There was a lapse of silence that hovered over them until he shattered it again.

"But you remember some?" he asked quietly, shifting his weight as he crossed his arms.

Brian's lips quirked into a small grin. "Yeah, especially about Mom…" His voice trailed off, but he didn't continue.

"So?" Richie prodded him.

Brian lowered his head and let his lids slip over his dark eyes as he slowly grinned. He gently squeezed Ishan's shoulder. Looking up, he met the younger boy's green-eyed gaze. "I promise, I'll tell you everything I remember…someday. You want to know about 'em still, right?"

He nodded, his teeth gritting against each other as he tightened his jaw and closed his eyes seemingly painfully.

The five boys didn't move save for a slight shiver or two in the cool atmosphere, and the silence that settled over them was almost welcome; alone, they were free to contemplate whatever they felt, but with the others, there was an unspoken rule about what just didn't pass their tongues; they realized and respected it, for their sake and for everyone else's sake as well.

Bryant broke it, though, the faint whisper hanging in the air between them before his brain fully comprehended that his thoughts had been spoken aloud. "Do you ever hate them sometimes?"

"Hate them? Hate our parents?" Colton looked up startled, a look of disbelief on his face. "Why?"

Bryant looked as though he were about to explain, his mouth open, ready to finish speaking his mind, but he stopped short as his brother looked around at him, the same haunting face he only saw in portraits staring at him again, questioningly. He felt his blood chill and his spine go rigid. Shaking his head, he lowered his gaze. "Forget what I said."

Bryant stared at his shoes.

Had he really expected them to understand? He didn't understand himself. How could he have thought they would be able to help him?

They saw Brian when they looked at his brother, not an all-too-familiar stranger.

They held tightly to the remnants of their parents, didn't toss everybit angrily into a box and dispose of it all.

They didn't fall into their slumbers with salt laying on their tongues, their cheeks stinging as blazing trails winded over them.

They didn't feel their bodies struggling harder every moment just to breathe.

Bryant blinked and frowned, his hands automatically clinching into fists as he felt his spine stiffen again and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He slowly turned. The man standing before him smiled cockily, close cut brown hair still clearly gray at his temples. His dark brown eyes became darker as he seemed to grow. "Step aside," he commanded him quietly. He pulled his hands from the pocket of his black pants.

"You have no idea what you're doing." Richie was suddenly by his side and Colton was standing before Ishan, who'd rose, his eyes seeming to suddenly glow. Brian cautiously eyed the brown vest he sported, his eyes locking on the bulging pockets and the Thangarian symbol 'death' stitched above his left breast like a badge.

The man's smile grew as he looked over their heads and to Colton. He used one paw to push aside both Bryant and Richie, who nearly fell as they collided with the stone of the fountain. "I want only the half-breed…" He moved to step over the two boys, but he met Colton's gaze, and stepped back instead, unraveled for a moment.

Bryant suddenly tackled into him, head-first, forcing the wind from his lungs. He was hurled backwards a few feet, almost losing his balance at the momentum that carried Bryant into him, and Brian quickly shoved past Colton and drug Ishan behind the stone fountain, where they both kneeled. Ishan barely prevented a glower from crossing his features, but Brian felt the resentment rolling from him even as he ducked back around to the visible side. Colton struck the man's knees before he'd stopped reeling from Bryant's initial blow. The man's legs buckled, and he fell to a kneel as the boys toppled from him and to the ground. Colton climbed back to his feet quicky, grabbing the olive collar around the man's neck and drawing back his hand taunt as an arrow in a bow.

"Leave us alone," he trembled as blood rushed to his face. He laughed again.

"This is going to be more entertaining than I thought," the man growled, eyebrows lowering over narrowed eyes. With a quick movement, he struck Colton with the outside of his right hand, then swept out his leg, teetering both him and Bryant over. Colton quickly rolled away, the strike the man followed through with missing him as his foot dug into the asphalt.

A booted foot with the weight of another man behind it settled atop Bryant's back, pushing him downward and back into the ground before he could push himself back to his feet. He screamed under the pressure, but the man didn't let up until Bryant stopped. He pulled back his leg, then kicked his body away.

Brian prepared to launch himself at the man's head when Richie screamed Ishan's name. The rage fell slightly from his face as he turned, watching in surprise as another man, nearly identical to the first two, held Ishan up like a prize, gripping the boy by his neck as he tried to pry his fingers from around his throat.

* * *

He continued to scream.

He hadn't stopped screaming since he'd woken up.

He'd woken up earlier than normal because he'd been screaming.

He'd been screaming since 3:30; A.M.

It was now almost noon.

And Shayera's heart had long since been torn out and destroyed in as malicious a way as possible.

"What's wrong with him?" Wally muttered as he watched the baby scream and stamp his feet while he held onto the couch, his miniscule wings beating rapidly.

"I don't know," Shayera answered exasperatedly. She didn't move from where she lay on the couch, one hand to her head, the other securing Ishan from falling.

"Did you try calming him down?"

"No, Wally," she glared. "I let my son scream and scream because I enjoy having my heart wrenched out and stomped upon by a child with a temper."

He merely shrugged and gave her his trade-mark 'kicked-puppy' look. "I was just trying to help…"

Shayera sighed as she sat up and expertly pulled the still screaming 10-month old up and onto her lap, holding him close and gently trying to quiet him. "I know, Wally, I know," she told him in between catches of a lullaby. "I just don't know what's made him so upset; and I don't like that I don't know what's made him so upset."

"I know," he assured her. He covered the distance from the doorway he'd been standing in, in an attempt to assure his hearing remain undamaged, to the couch. He sat down beside Shayera. Ishan had his mouth open, his first two teeth plainly visible, and was repeatedly burying his head into Shayera's chest, his continuous cry never ceasing, his tiny hands balled into fists as he hung on to her shirt.

"Maybe he wants to nurse," Wally observed placidly, slowly making to leave in the event he did.

"I already tried that," Shayera shook her head.

"Why don't I watch him for a little while, then? You deserve a break, and Tim's keeping up with the kids, right now." Wally held out his hands for the small boy, who continued to scream right over his words and into his mother's shirt.

"Tim?" Shayera questioned as she turned Ishan so he faced Wally, green-eyes still small, upset slits, cheeks still red from yelling non-stop. "You and Dick let him watch those Demon-Spawn? Great; he'll probably let them burn down the manor…"

"I resent that remark," Wally frowned teasingly as Ishan reached for him, his loud and frantic babbling almost drowning out Wally's playful words. "_My_ children aren't Demon-Spawn." He began to babble, imitating Ishan in a quieter tone. Still screaming, he fell into his arms, burying his head in his Uncle's shoulder. His bottom teeth gripped his lip as his eyes searched warily.

Wally placed a hand on his back and rubbed gently at the spot between his wings, imitating a movement he'd seen Shy use when the boy absolutely refused to go to sleep, and for a moment, he quieted down and moved his head into a more comfortable position, his softy, downy feather filled wings folding down onto his back and Wally's hands. "How about I take him outside for a little walk and let you have some down time?"

"I already tried that; I had to bring him back inside because I was afraid he would disturb the neighbors."

Wally frowned as he continued to massage the baby's back. "Neighbors? Need I remind you that neighbors are few and far between at this place seeing as how the owner's personality wasn't what you would call 'friend-friendly'?"

"I realize that, Wally."

He shook his head. "How about I just take him off of your hand for a little while so you can relax?"

Shayera's weary features lit up with a faint smile, though she didn't respond at first. "Thank-you, Wally."

"Sure thing," Wally returned the smile. He twisted his head around slightly to look at the thick tangle of curls on Ishan's head, which was all he could see due to the way Ishan laid on his shoulder. "Has he eaten?"

"Only a little bit, and even then it was a battle to trick him into calming down long enough for me to put food in his mouth."

"Well, gee, that explains it, huh?" Wally asked the still whimpering Ishan. "I know_ I_ feel like throwing a fit when I get hungry." He started laughing and Shayera looked at him in question. "You have no idea how ticklish these curls are," he answered, a chuckle being suppressed as he explained. He shifted, and no sooner had he readjusted himself than Ishan started screaming in his ear again.

Wally groaned. "This would never have happened if he didn't have those damn curls. Why won't you cut them, or something?"

Shayera looked thoroughly shocked at the revelation. "Cut his beautiful curls? They'll straighten out on their own when he gets older; until then…deal with it," she dismissed the subject.

"Whatever," Wally rolled his eyes upward and stood, slowly pacing, Ishan still on his shoulder, wearily observing his surroundings.

Smiling still, Shayera lay back on the couch in a sense of tranquility despite that fact that Ishan was still yelling at the top of his lungs, fists pummeling Wally's back. Wally was quietly talking to him, rocking him in a slow, steady rhythm as he moved the baby so that he was looking at his face.

Shy let the wariness that had been pulling her down all day finally take over, and her eyelids slid closed as Wally quieted Ishan.

The peace was interrupted abruptly by Wally's inquiring voice.

"Hey, Shy, why have there been so many Thanagarians leaving today?"

"What?" she answered, her mind still lost somewhere in unconsciousness. She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, but she knew it had been long enough for Ishan's perpetual yells to be reduced to whimpers for the longest period that day. And Wally was still pacing about the living room.

"Yeah, all day, those hawkpeople have been flooding out of here."

"Wally," Shayera sighed as she blinked. "Did you have to wake me up for that?"

"…yeah, I guess I shouldn't've. Sorry about that." Guilt hit her like a ton of bricks, but 'sorry' got lodged in her throat even as she tried to apologize. It would be easier to just move to something else… he'd forgive her.

"You must be a great dad for Chris and Colton," she mused as she turned on her side and watched Wally gently consoling Ishan through a hazy gaze.

She watched as his face reddened and he grinned. Shayera felt her own lips tug upwards. "I guess. I mean, I'm just a regular dad…who loves his kids."

Neither said a word, and for a while, only Ishan's whimpering filled the room.

"You're good for him; for Ishan, I mean," she added quietly as she began to slip back to sleep.

Wally's grin faltered, but Shayera was already engulfed in another dream.

"Yeah," he repeated and looked down, meeting Ishan's wide-eyed gaze. "Maybe…but I could never compare to John, could I?"


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything….save for the kids…

Colton: Is there some way we can get out of this?

Me:….no…..

A/N: Just for the record, GL's one of my favorite characters too, but I'm afraid in this case, all actions taken were absolutely necessary; that goes for everyone else out there with a favorite character you are upset for losing. Don't make any assumptions… Just…trust me….and pay no attention to the muses who warn you otherwise, ok? ::looks around nervously::

* * *

**Shattering Eternal:** Chapter Three

* * *

"Thank you," she whispered as she gently leaned in for a kiss on the cheek which he generously supplied.

"I do believe I asked for a kiss," his breath tickled her ear.

"Later," she smiled as she pushed against his chest and stood, leaving him sitting on the ground, a smirk still playing on his lips.

She backed out of the entrance, smiling coyly the entire way, and didn't lose eye contact until she'd let the flap of the tent close behind her. Breathing a sigh of relief, she raced across the now over half-empty camp-grounds, the shelters and equipment remaining soon to be packed and carted away to the wherever they were planning on setting up their head-quarters. Her feet pounded in perfect rhythm with her heart that had sped up sometime during her discussion with him; she felt a strange pang of triumph in realizing that it wasn't because of an attraction, like the one that used to make her lose the feeling throughout her body, and her tongue suddenly become heavy and limp within her suddenly dry mouth, and she wouldn't be able to breathe as long as his heavy, dark eyes were on her, and...

Inhaling deeply and shaking her head to clear it of the more than less-tasteful- thoughts, she spread her wings, letting lift carry her upward, and she rejoiced in feeling the wind kiss her face, her arms, all of her body, and let it sweep away the grime she felt was left upon her from even the smallest touch from him.

Letting illusions take over her mind and all the weight on her shoulders slip away, she almost overshot the large throng of fledglings gathered below her; quickly shaking her head to clear it, she slowed down, landing conveniently before the objects currently highest up on her 'important tasks' list.

"Lieutenant?"

"Quickly and quietly, follow me; we need to go somewhere we won't be overheard. Grab your sister's hand, and act natural," she told him swiftly, not bothering to allow him to recover from shock. As her form began retreating as rapidly as it approached, he obediently grabbed his sister's hand rather roughly and pulled. They expertly dodged through the tight crowd of fledglings, bunched together and contained by some of the lowest ranking officers as they tried to herd them onto ships.

Following Hawkgirl, they plunged into the trees, their hearts beginning to race. _Why had she come? Why had she dragged them off, so close to leaving?_ The thoughts pounded through their brains as their feet trampled over the earth.

Trees whizzed by them in blurs as they continued deeper into the tangled forest that had served as their barrier from the outside world for the past two months. The slanting light that had managed to pass through the thick canopy of leaves suddenly burst full and bright in the clearing they found themselves suddenly stumbling into.

"Don't say a word; I only have a little time to explain," Hawkgirl told them quickly as she turned swiftly to face them. Herin and H'ryah's mouths were open slightly, both at a loss as to what was going on, and Herin's grip on his sister's hand tightened as their gray eyes searched Hawkgirl, trying to piece together what was happeneing. Hawkgirl's mouth turned up in a half-smirk.

"Close your mouths before you catch flies; I need your mind here for you to understand this fully." Nodding, the twins closed their mouths in obedience and continued to stare at Hawkgirl. "It will probably take them a good while to get all of the fledglings back on the ship," she mused as she crossed her arms and made eye contact with Herin. "To our advantage; hopefully, they won't notice you're missing until it's too late."

"Missing?" repeated Herin and H'ryah in unison.

"We don't have time for the echo bit. We need to keep moving, so walk and listen; carefully. I'm only going to explain this once," Hawkgirl began as she turned on her heel and stalked back into the trees at a slightly slower pace this time. Both plunged after her, confusion flooding their thoughts.

"I have some good news for you two," muttered Hawkgirl as she pushed aside thick foliage and continued swiftly, Herin and H'ryah trailing after her, her words cutting into their thoughts. "Considering the importance of the shield plans and scheduling, the Elders have decided to hold Trials next year; the group will be bigger since it will consist of this year's fledgling and the next, but they've decided that –"

"Good news?" Herin stopped short, cutting Hawkgirl off mid-sentence. "How is that good news? I thought you go it. My sister could be killed before then! We don't have the time to wait! We've waited long enough as it!"

Hawkgirl didn't even glance back. "Keep moving, we're pressed for time here," she replied as if he hadn't opened his mouth.

Herin gritted his teeth in anger and clenched his fist. H'ryah charged ahead of her brother who continued to stand rooted to the spot until he was physically pulled by his sister.

"You didn't let me finish, Herin; you must learn patience; it's key to surviving your _Kzan Y'ikit,"_ she lectured as H'ryah managed to catch up, and their pace accelerated, Hawkgirl's eyes darting to the sky and checking about them behind her mask every so often.

"'Survive'?"

"Yeah, 'survive'. Or did you plan on passing the Trials as a dead woman?" The look on H'ryah's face did not require Hawkgirl to turn around for the image to implant itself in her mind.

"You father never told you that?" Hawkgirl's pace slackened only slightly as her eyebrows lowered under her mask. "Pity. I'll tell you now since you'll have to know at some point." She didn't sound overjoyed about doing so.

"Only about 35 of fledgling actually live through Trials, and only 20 of that actually lives on in society since the other 15 suffers… side effects, and is put down by the Elders' command. Keep that in mind." The pace quickened again.

Herin still hadn't said another word, but the anger in his eyes was quickly being clouded over by another emotion as his feet beat over the path created by his scrambling sister.

"I take it you two can fly rather fast?" Hawkgirl queried as the maze of trees they weaved their way through began to thin out and she began to unfold her wings.

H'ryah, mind racing, mumbled in the affirmative as her heart began to pound against her chest and she found with every breath, her throat burned.

"Good. Now then, I told you I have good news, and I do; this year's fledglings will go through their Trials next year; until then, they are returning back to Thanagar, back to their underling life until the time comes again. You two, however," Hawkgirl paused slightly as she gestured with her hands, still not turning to face them, "will not be among them."

H'ryah had found her tongue again, and wasted no time in letting it start up. "We won't be with them next year? Why not? We'll be fledglings forever!" More questions were piled atop each other in her mind, but in the midst of the chaos, she couldn't set them into order to ask any except one. "Why is it that so many die?"

Herin was a different story. "Why have we never heard this before?"

"Your father," Hawkgirl answered easily. "You did say he was a compassionate man, didn't you? While it's fortunate that you have such a father, I'm sorry to say that compassion will help you very little on Thanagar in your time." She didn't continue as they came upon an overlook, a fast-paced stream flowing down below them. Closing her eyes, Hawkgirl tilted her head back and inhaled deeply, her wide, emerald eyes fluttering reopen as she extended her wings to their full span.

Herin and H'ryah imitated her, allowing their wings to billow out. Herin hissed slightly as he exhaled, his wings still being tender to movement, and H'ryah gripped his hand in her own firmly.

She pushed off from the ground with her feet, soaring immediately higher up than any altitude she would normally fly at. Glancing back, she made sure they had followed, then turned swiftly, her wings beating rapidly as she soared toward home. H'ryah and Herin didn't say a word as, still hanging on to other's grip for life, they pushed themselves to catch up to Hawkgirl.

"Are you going to be able to make this flight?" Hawkgirl inquired suddenly.

"Don't worry about me," Herin replied, gritting his teeth and swallowing a yell. "I'll be fine; just keep talking." Hawkgirl didn't start talking again, the only sound that surrounded them the almost frantic flapping of their wings for a few tense moments.

Finally, she spoke once more. "That you can tolerate extreme pain is a benefit," she muttered, barely loud enough for them to hear. She continued, louder, making sure they could hear every word. "You'll need determination for your Trials. They'll take place after the first half of shield project is finished. Until then, you'll be staying with me, here in my city." H'ryah and Herin looked down at the scenery below them as what she said registered in their heads. They found, astonishingly, that they'd been flying so rapidly that the winding river that had accompanied them had disappeared and been replaced by tall buildings, glinting up at the three Thanagarians, invisible to the people who filled the streets and gave Herin and H'ryah the illusion the hard asphalt was moving as steadily as they were.

Hawkgirl once again swiftly turned and faced them, pulling up short so that she and Herin were eye to eye, and mere centimeters separated them. "You cannot, and I repeat, cannot be seen by anyone. Your presence must not be acknowledged by a single soul. I'll make sure of this." She held up on finger, right between them, and when she spoke, her voice was low and lethal. "If one if you ever slips up, even once: you accidentally leave something on and someone hears it, you accidentally move something from its place, you leave something out and someone, _anyone_, gets suspicious; just once, and it means certain death. For you, for your sister, and for your father. Understand?"

Herin's eyes narrowed, but the light that had been dancing before was extinguished as he bowed his head slightly with a quick jerk. He pulled H'ryah closer, holding her hand tighter.

"…Good." Hawkgirl swooped downward. She easily landed on the balcony of her apartment, relieved that most of the other occupants were out. Slowly, she moved toward the balcony door, reaching out for the handle instinctively until she realized, startled, that the door was already open. Cautiously, she stepped through the entrance, aware that Herin and H'ryah had finally touched down on the balcony, too. H'ryah had enough sense to hang back, and Hawkgirl was thankful as she stepped more into the room and found herself being pulled into someone. Her mask was lifted from her face and tossed to side, clattering softly and landing right in H'ryah and Herin's point of view. Herin pushed his sister farther away from the door.

Softly, they heard Hawkgirl's voice drift from inside, followed by a deep chuckle.

"How did you get here?"

* * *

Brian gasped as he was flipped heavily over the man's shoulder and flew into a fountain. Water poured onto his head as he sat, stunned momentarily, water soaking his pants and the bottom edge of his hoodie. His head spun and his vision swam. The redheaded man stood over him, watching him in disgust with bright blue eyes, dancing as quickly as the water around Brian's feet. His jaw clenched as the man quickly reach for him, but Brian moved quicker, finally gaining the use of his legs again and slipping from his grasp. He tumbled head-first from the fountain, bracing himself as he landed on the ground near the man's feet and swiftly standing. The man spun as Brian dashed again from his grasp, ducking under his legs and hopping back on the edge of the fountain. The man spun around again in confusion. Brian launched himself to his back, and the man howled wildly, growling in anger as he grabbed for him. Catching his hood, he pulled him away and dangled Brian before him.

"You've caused me more than enough trouble, kid," he grunted, Brian ignoring him as he squirmed. He drew back his fist, just as Brian slipped his arms through his dark-blue sleeves and falling to the ground. Catching the man by surprise, his arms were around his middle as soon as his feet hit the ground. Pushing him backward forcefully, he toppled over the edge of the fountain he'd just stood upon and into the inky-blue liquid, Brian with him.

The water had barely stopped falling around them before Brian was yanked backward.

"These damn kids are getting in our fucking way!" the man swinging him bellowed, glancing to Richie in his other hand. Clumsily, the man in the fountain scrambled out, coming to stand before them, the water falling from every piece of his being giving his already intimidating look another level of terror.

"I say we just drown the little rats," the fourth hurriedly grunted, glancing worriedly toward the tightly gathered crowd, nervously standing back from them, but still watching intently.

Richie screamed and twisted his free arm around to brace himself on the man's shoulder, drew back his foot, then kneed him in the groin. He fell to the ground, losing his grip on Brian and Richie, and Brian found himself plummeting again to the pavement. Using the shock of the second man to his advantage, Richie quickly stood, lunging for the third man's arm as he still stood in disbelief. Richie turned away from him, his arms behind his head. With a satisfactory yell, he flipped him over his head. Richie jumped on the man's chest, found his fingers locked around his neck without actually realizing it, and he didn't let go as his lips turned blue, as his eyes widened in incredulity and the lack of oxygen, until he couldn't feel the throb of his heart against the palm of his hand.

"Richie!" He didn't respond to his name as Brian, still shell-shocked, looked up from where he sat trembling on the ground to the crowd, saw the disturbance escalate until Dick pushed through the human barrier and ran to them. The enraged look on Richie's face disappeared, replaced by one of utter shock as Dick tugged at his shoulders until he'd pulled him into his arms.

Tim fell through the crowd almost immediately afterwards, kneeling beside Bryant. Eyes closed, Bryant didn't move. Tim quickly lifted him, holding him to his chest and bending down near his mouth. He didn't exhale until he felt a stream of warm air gently brush his cheek.

A murmur surrounded them, soft wings shifting against each other as the five young Thanagarians from which the crowd extended frowned, arms crossing over the silver plates on their chests.

The middle one clenched her jaws, short black hair shifting as she turned slightly to either of the boys flanking him. She yelled something over the increasing drone of the crowd of humans.

They jumped in surprise, a few screaming, as a gunshot split the air.

Wally had forgotten how fast he could move.

He knew he'd been standing, his back to the crowd, unable to bid his muscles to move. That what he should have still been doing. It couldn't have been possible for him to find his fists pummeling into the abdomen of the man who'd just thrown Colton half-way down the street when he'd just been staring at the gun the man had drawn and discharged, just been watching Colton kick the weapon from his hands, roll under the man's punch and leap to his back, his arms lacing around his neck as tightly as the boy could manage.

The man managed to get in a punch to Wally's torso, but Wally merely rolled away from his next blow. He stood, waiting for the man to do the same. Slowly, he rose, wiping the blood from his bruised lip. He charged at Wally, yelling. Wally quickly moved to the side, grabbing one of the man's arms as he hurtled past him and twisting it until the man was growling in anger, suppressing a howl of pain of Wally held him immobilized.

"If you value your life," he grunted, "you'll leave." He screamed again as Wally pulled his arm harder.

"I was thinking the same thing."

"You have no idea what you're doing."

Wally let him fall to the ground in a heap at his feet, gasping desperately. "I know enough to kill you here and now."

The man tried to stand again, but Wally delivered another blow that sent the man into the front of another store.

He staggered up from the fragments of glass relatively slower than he had before, trembling as he tried to breathe. Wally's eyes seemed to catch fire right before him, and he froze; they were dead.

He would have a field-day with this one; all of them, dead, _killed,_ by the hands of…

The man laughed. How ironic. They were supposed to kill the child… the others if necessary. And out of the three of them, he was the only one still standing.

Staggering, he stepped over the jagged ledge that once held the window, his heavy boot crunching the shards into tinier pieces than they already were. His chest heaved, but he couldn't breathe; sharp pain lit up his left side aw he staggered closer to Wally, frozen in place, shaking with rage.

"One way or another…"

He laughed again, tasting blood on his tongue as he dropped to his knees and coughed. A pool of red collected before him as he struggled upright.

He opened his mouth, preparing to say something as he reach to his side and removed the gun there.

"He'll… he'll have…" His breathing slowed as he raised the gun and aimed it at the still unmoving Wally. "His blood." He pulled back the hammer, and a second gunshot rang through the air.

Dick nearly dropped Richie as the crowd hurriedly parted.

Wally still hadn't moved.

The man lay on a blanket of red on the square.

Colton sat near before another fountain, shaking, gun still raised in his hands, tears sliding down his cheeks.

Something seemed to click with Wally, and he ran to his son, pulled him to him as he ripped away the gun and threw it. Colton pulled from his grasp and stood, stumbling backwards before he fell. He drew up his knees and buried his face in his arms. Wally watched as his body shook.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no…" he muttered. "No, no, no, no, no…"

Wally instinctively turned to his right. The five Thanagarians had moved; the girl kneeled over a small form as the four 'body-guards' stood around her protectively. She stared in interest, but didn't touch the figure red-tinged wings wrapped around its body. Her head tilted from one side to another, studying the child intently, before suddenly glancing up and meeting Wally's eyes. She didn't move.

Hesitantly, Wally approached them; his step faltered unnoticeably as the center figure swiftly stood, and the five stepped back respectively.

Wally fought the sudden inflexibility of his body and bent down, taking Ishan into his arms. The five Thanagarians before him parted, allowing space for him to pass them. He turned instead to meet Tim and Dick's gazes.

Dick lowered his head solemnly, then glanced to Tim.

"We need to get them back to the manor; now."

* * *

Shayera turned fitfully in her sleep, her heart pounding against her chest, her breaths coming in quick and short bursts.

With a startled scream, she bolted upright, blinking against the light.

It took her a few seconds to calm down and realize that she sat in the living room, where she'd fallen asleep.

Wally wasn't still pacing, and the light streaming through the enormous windows one the second level was considerably less, so she assumed that it was much later in the day.

And hopefully, Ishan wasn't still screaming his lungs out.

That thought brought back another that made her shiver and throw the covers someone had thought to place on her off.

That was it. That was why Ishan had been screaming.

She had to tell Wally. And Tim and Dick and Alfred.

But she had to tell Wally first, because the crazy kid had probably taken him somewhere he would be an easy target.

Shayera threw her feet off of the couch, her right leg asleep because of the way she'd been laying. Cursing, she stood uneasily and wobbled before gaining her balance and striding toward the door, unable to sprint because of the pain it caused when her right leg was stretched out.

Pushing through the giant oak doors, she stuck her head out and checked the hallways, the slightest bit of paranoia beginning to grip her.

Reassured that the hallway was clear, she took off in the direction of the front door, stopping abruptly in front of a large portrait of the current heirs to the house late grandmother and grandfather. She didn't know where Wally was, she reminded herself.

The only thing she knew was that she had to get her son as far away as possible, or at least somewhere extremely secure.

…and that she'd told Wally not to take Ishan outside. Her feet pounded across the red carpet lining the center of the hard, wooden floor, moving as quickly as she could toward the kitchen.

She skidded to a stop in the doorway, her hand gripping the frame for support as her right leg itched with pain again.

He said he was going to feed him…but that was a long time ago.

Angrily, she hit the frame with her fist. Damn, Wally! What else had he said? ...Nothing.

She had nothing to go on.

Breathing deeply, she tried to think logically, but the prickly sensations that were coursing themselves into her bloodstream were telling her otherwise, and without another moment wasted on trying to think, she continued sprinting down the hall.

She slipped along the rug, her feet beginning to heat up from the friction, her hands gripping the walls as she tore around the corners, and with every passing moment, she became more frantic, more anxious.

Exhausted, finally, she came to a pause in her search. She leaned her head against the wooden paneling, her chest rising quickly as she tried to regain her breath. Her eyes slid close, and her chaotic thoughts were overpowered by….music?

Peeling herself off the wall, she looked suspiciously down the hallway. Surely the music was an illusion in her current state of delusion.

More frustrated, she laid back again, and the tune leapt back into her mind. No, she wasn't hallucinating. There was music playing, somewhere, and from the laughter accompanying it, the children were the ones playing it.

And if the children were playing it, then that meant Tim had to be somewhere nearby.

With renewed strength, Shayera gravitated toward the music, her heart still pounding away its own solo on her chest. Windblown and hair askew, she stood frozen in the doorway as the music washed over her.

"Hey, Aunty Shy!" Richie beamed up at her from where he was pretending to waltz with his sister.

"Looky what we found!" giggled Chris as she swept by Shayera's legs, her brother grinning with her. "Show Aunt Shy your pretty dress Raven!"

Richie spun his younger sister out from him, holding her hand up so that she modeled the dress, the soft, pale green material sweeping around her small form. Raven seemed delighted in the billowy clothing as she continued spin, her brother obligingly allowing her.

"Pretty!" she squealed.

"And look at _mine_!" Chris insisted as dropped both of her brother's hands and picked up the skirt of her dress daintily. She curtseyed, smiling devilishly as she then twirled, long strawberry-blond ponytails streaming behind her. The powdery blue silk fell in cascades as she giggled and twirled around her brother. "Daddy showed me how to curtesy!" she smiled, pleased with herself.

Brian smiled widely. "It's 'curtsey', not 'curtesy'."

Chris turned on him, only semi-irritated. "Well, you're the one being a wallflower!" she informed him as she skipped over to where he leaned against the wall and grabbed his hand, not allowing him to protest, the snoozing Tim never even twitching. Brian, found himself spinning a still giggling Chris around.

Bryant rolled his eyes as his brother swept past, leaning casually against the stereo that was playing the music. Smirking, Brian reached out and grabbed his brother, swiftly transferring his hand into Chris's, who didn't care who was dancing with her as long as she was dancing.

Shayera swallowed hard a couple of times before she could speak. "Brian," She called the young boy over and bent down slightly so that their faces were closer together. She rested one hand on his shoulder. "Sweetie, have you seen your Uncle Wally?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "He was here a little while ago. You looking for him?"

"Yes. It's very important that I find him and Ishan. Do you have any idea where he went?" Her voice sounded more urgent than she would have liked, and she didn't like that idea that she might be scaring the other children who were bringing their dancing to a halt and coming closer…but she did need to find Wally.

"I'm not sure, but we can help you look for them," Brian offered, his smile fading at the tone in Shayera's voice.

"No," she shook he head quickly. "There's no need to drag you into this, too. Just keep playing." Her voice was in danger of cracking as she slowly grasped exactly what she was seeing as they stood there before her; it was right, but …it was all so wrong.

She'd helped buy those, the tuxes for the boys mirror images of their fathers and J'onn, and…the dresses for Raven and Chris purchased with Diana's, with her own wedding dress; …and this wasn't what they'd been for.

The way they'd been laughing, the way they'd been dancing around the parlor, that was right, too, but….they were supposed to be underfoot of their parents and all of their parents' friends and as welcome as any of them, and the way they felt right then was supposed to be uniform to everyone present, but...

But that had already been ripped away.

And they didn't know that, and what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

"I'll find Uncle Wally." Ruffling his hair, Shayera regained her posture and retreated back into the hall.

"Do you think we should help anyways?" Brian asked Richie, his gaze still on his Aunt's worried form.

"No," Richie responded after careful thought. "If she doesn't want us to help, then...she has a good reason."

Shayera continued down the hall, now thoroughly nervous, the echo of the children accompanying her. She still had not idea where Wally was, and every minute she wasted one minute closer to those monsters getting a hand on her son.

Lost in thought, she didn't notice the second person in the hall until she bumped into his chest solidly. Looking up, she started to apologize, but stopped short as her green eyes locked on a matching hue of concerned gazing.

"Wally," she breathed in relief and immediately grabbed his shoulders. "Wally, I'm glad I found you. Ishan –" Shayera stopped suddenly as realization struck her. "Wally, where's Ishan? Where's my son?"

"Whoa, Shy, calm down!" Wally shushed her as he gripped her shoulders. "He's fine, ok? He's in his room, the little tyke…"

"His room?!?" Shayera asked in bewilderment, indicating that was the worst possible place the baby could be.

"Yeah, his room. What's wrong with that?"

"Come on," she mumbled as she dragged him off in the direction of the children's rooms. "We need to get him; now. I know why all those Thanagarian were leaving earlier today and why Ishan wouldn't stop screaming. He was trying to tell me, and I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner myself….I must be really slipping…."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Time-out!" Wally stopped and forced Shayera to turn around. "What are you talking about? You're talking crazy!"

"Wally we have to keep moving; please, trust me. We have to get him, now!"

"But, why? He's fine; he's in his room –" He stopped as Shayera spun around on him.

"The Gordanians are coming! I need to get Ishan somewhere safe, _now!_"

* * *

"I'd like to say I walked, but of course you wouldn't buy that," he chuckled as he continued to hold her. Shayera began silently praying that H'ryah and Herin wouldn't come barging in.

"You didn't fly, did you?" she questioned as she tried to escape his grasp, but his hold on her was much too much for her to overcome. "You know you were hurt…"

"Quit worrying about me, Shy," he told her quietly as he turned her around to face him. He held her face delicately. "I'm fine; I'm worried about you. Are you sure you're ok? You've been so …distant…"

"Why wouldn't I be ok…?" she let her sentence trail off as he brought his face to hers, capturing her lips in a chaste kiss.

She pulled back, and he continued to stare at her in silence, his eyes searching hers for an answer. Finally, he let the hand around her waist drop, and he allowed her control of her head again. Shayera bit back the sudden urge to tell him that he'd done nothing wrong, that he really had every right to turn his back on her and should do so, that he was the only thing that was_ right_ …Reminding herself that if she said a word, H'ryah and Herin would be done for, she pushed the guilt to the back of her mind.

"Hungry? I could fix us something…"

"Yes; you know where everything is," she replied quickly, sighing inwardly in relief. He wearily gazed at her before turning and walking to the kitchen. She allowed the tell-tale sounds of various food and pots being removed to reach her ears before she sprinted the short distance to her balcony door, retrieving her mask on her way past. Slipping the mask on, she stepped outside, looking for the twins.

She called to them at a level she hoped was loud enough to reach them, but not the kitchen. After a few moments of no reply, she guessed that they were completely deaf to her, wherever they were. Moving further out, she opened her mouth to call again, and almost ended up screaming in surprise.

"Sorry," H'ryah mouthed as Shayera quickly closed her mouth tightly. H'ryah glided farther up to make it over the side of the balcony, and Herin came into view, breathing labouredly and grasping his sister's hand.

H'ryah let her feet brush the ground before turning around and clutching her brother's hand with her other. Still hovering slightly above the floor, she helped him stumble over the side; Shayera took note of the way Herin held his left wing close to his body, and was beating his right one at a greatly decreased speed, but she didn't dare mention it yet, lest the discussion reach the kitchen.

She was sure, however, had H'ryah not been helping him, he would not have been able to even stumble onto the balcony. Dropping quietly to his knees, he looked as if he was going to be sick for a moment before standing up.

Without a word, she beckoned them in, cautious of the slightest sound. Shayera led them pass the living room and down a long hall. Pausing in front of a door toward the end of the hallway, she quickly turned the handle and pushed, causing the door to swing open. H'ryah and Herin scrambled inside, and Shayera quickly followed.

"Come on, hurry up," Shayera told them tersely as she walked toward the back of her bedroom.

Herin, his breathing almost normal, tread after her as quietly as possible. Shayera stopped and placed her palms at shoulder level on the wall, spreading her fingers outward. She pushed gently, and light seemed to spread from her finger tips, flowing into lines and Thanagarian characters that seemed to glow against the wall, more radiant trails outlining a door's figure. H'ryah and Herin watched in astonishment as the wall seemed to fall away from them and disappear completely.

Shayera rushed them into the room revealed behind the wall. Herin and H'ryah paused in the doorway; one bed sat along either side of the entrance, deep blue covers pulled up to fluffy, snow white pillows neatly propped against the artistically carved oak headboards. A desk sat along either of the two side walls, a simple, black desk lamp set near stacks of parchment-like paper, abnormally large quills laid atop them. Directly above each, and running the length of the room, were two shelves built into indentations in the pale green walls themselves, various medical supplies safely laid behind clear glass along one shelf, various Thanagarian remnant food along the second. The back of the room was a stuffed bookcase, the gilded Thanagarian characters lining the leather spines glinting in the surprisingly strong veil of light cast from a simple light fixture in the middle of the ceiling.

H'rayh and Herin stood, their mouths agape, barely aware of Shayera's voice, quickly explaining small details. She rested a comforting hand on both of their dark green tunic shirted shoulders.

"I have to go at this moment, but I will check on you and give you a more thorough explanation at another point today." She turned to face Herin. "You will be safe here; that I promise."

She smiled reassuringly and moved around the twins. The entrance glowed brightly as she stepped back through it, and the wall seemed to slide back in place.

The room might have never existed as she flung off her mask and removed her yellow top, throwing it expertly into the half-filled hamper sitting near the still slightly open door.

Herin and H'ryah, all of the fledglings, the entire _camp_ might have never existed as she fell to her bed, feeling the urge to sink under the velvety red covers, but removed her pants which ended up on top of her shirt.

The last two months could have never existed as she stepped into the adjacent bathroom and closed and locked the door behind her, leaning against it as she allowed her breathing, its accelerated pace unnoticed until that moment, to return to normal.

The whole reason for her coming to Earth in the first place, five years ago, could have never existed as she began to draw her bath.

And as far as John was concerned, still cooking supper in the kitchen, none of it ever would.

Hopefully.

* * *

He couldn't run even if his bad leg wasn't giving him hell at the moment.

He couldn't run even if the six pairs of eyes that were his only companions weren't lingering on his form, none of them daring to speak a word.

He couldn't run even if he weren't holding his best friends' only child while his life was slowly slipping through his fingers.

Unwillingly dragging along behind Wally, Tim tried to look up and meet the eyes of those around him, or at the very least, close his eyes and shut out heavy darkness lingering over them. As they climbed up the winding path, the air grew heavier, seeming to nearly suffocate him as held tightly to Brian, staring unseeing over his shoulder. The nails of Bryant's fists dug into his palms as he buried his head into Tim's shoulder and decided he didn't like the inferior feeling he was experiencing: knowing there was nothing he could do but sit and watch, and let everything that was happening keep getting worse and worse. Knowing what had just happened, they couldn't undo, no matter how much they longed to.

Colton's head was swimming, the constant uneasiness encouraging his unsettled stomach to empty its contents as he tried to listen to Dick, and not drift off yet. His lids still ended up slipping farther over his cloudy eyes as he watched his father in a dream-like state, and Dick dutifully jostled him slightly, keeping him from falling off the edge of consciousness Colton was hanging onto desperately. He mentally chastised himself for almost letting go. He was stronger than that….

Wasn't that what his father expected of him?

To be strong enough to look after himself and his sister…and Ishan?

…Why the hell weren't they walking any faster?

Richie's eyes remained dry; he'd cried all the tears that would come, his cheeks and grave eyes red. He wanted to reach over and punch Colton, yell at him for having the nerve to sit there, wallowing in self pity while they should have been doing something to help, but he knew he was in the same state as him. What could they do, anyway? They weren't ever prepared for something like this to happen. They were never supposed to be.

That was what Dick and Tim and Wally had worked to prevent, wasn't it? The entire point of suppressing what they were capable of as long as possible? They had never wanted anything to every come to that… they had hoped it never would… at the very least, not yet. Not then.

Dry wind wildly tossing his hair, the rarely smiling Dick was suddenly more intimidating as something about the way his face was set chilled their already frozen blood and made their skin crawl; they all refused to look up and meet his blind, icy gaze. His mind was racing faster than normal as thoughts bounced about at a sickening pace; he couldn't believe it; he _wouldn't _believe it….

He did not believe he'd saved one, just to lose another later.

This… wasn't really happening. It wasn't.

Wally continued to drag one foot in front of the other, unaware of everything going on around him, a mindless actor in a play, and nothing more. He wasn't even aware of himself as he passed through the aged manor doors, a calm and collected as always Alfred holding it open. Raven and Chris, who'd been bouncing about his feet at the approach of the others, abruptly found that their excitement was firmly extinguished at the procession before them.

Dick and Tim carried the other boys down to the Batcave where their former mentor's medical supplies still laid, untouched for years, still carefully sorted, cleaned, and put away in the infirmary of his former base of operations; Tim groggily made his way down the stone steps and toward Dick, the grandfather clock sliding close behind him surprisingly quietly.

Brian and Bryant were carefully let down on the examination table beside Richie where they sat quietly, their backs to each other, waiting for Dick to treat them. Bryant breathed heavily, gritting his teeth as he leaned backward and onto his brother's back.

Silence echoed through the cave, broken only by the rustling movements of Dick as he worked swiftly as he could will, trying to focus on what he was doing instead of what had happened.

Colton's hands gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white, the red cuts along his knuckles making a vivid contrast. The tears that had subsided began to gather again, and slowly slipped down his cheeks. The others turned to look at him, unsure of how to provide comfort as he sniffed quietly, the tears starting to splatter his shirt. He pushed away Dick's hand, finished bandaging the gash on his head, and slid off of the table, disappearing up the steps as quickly as he could. His eyes were squeezed shut to hold back the still flowing tears.

Dick didn't say a word, but turned to Bryant. "Come on, kid; let me check out your back and make sure you didn't slip a disk."

Bryant nodded, carefully making his way over to Dick and lying on his stomach. "I'm just going to make sure all of the disks are correctly lined up and in place; if you feel pain, I want you to let me know right away, ok?" Bryant nodded.

Tim stood, fuming silently beside Dick, trying to find a way to retort to the calm air Dick had somehow managed to remain suspended in; Dick solved the problem for him.

"Colton is fine; I've already determined that his cut wasn't deep enough to cause serious injury, and will heal shortly. On the other hand, I have no idea what is wrong with the other boys, yet, or even how serious it is. Don't you think the wise thing would be to stay here?" Bryant grunted slightly as Dick's hand brushed over a sore spot, and Dick simultaneously began to frown.

His hands brushed back over the purple tinged spot, the pattern common along his back, and Bryant grimaced.

"He might not have any serious physical injuries, but that doesn't make him exempt from mental scarring," Tim snapped suddenly; Dick gritted his teeth in annoyance, trying to remain focused on Bryan, but Tim seemed to be unaware. "You can't tell me –"

Dick slammed his fist down beside Bryant's head, causing him to shut his eyes quickly, and turned to Tim.

"Don't you think everyone's going to carry scars from this?"

Tim kept his mouth closed, but continued to glare at him.

Dick stalked towards the counter, consistently kept at a paranoiac–level of sterile; searching through the neatly labeled bottles for a second, he finally selected a small one, quickly shaking a pill out and retrieving a cup which he began to fill with water from the faucet.

The water continued to run quietly as he sighed and placed his shaking hands on the marble counter.

"Look, Tim –" Dick turned around and found Tim was gone. Glancing up, he barely managed to see a thin shaft of light waning as the grandfather clock slid close.

Dick inhaled sharply and handed the medicine and the water to Bryant, snapping the water off. "Take that; it'll dull the pain for a while. I'm not sure yet, but…just don't lie on your back and try not to move around too much, ok? You brave enough for the possibility of having to stay in the infirmary or your room for a while?"

"Yes, sir," Bryant mumbled

* * *

Wally's eyes widened. "...are you serious?"

Shayera scowled at him.

"Right, stupid question…"

"We're wasting time!" she exclaimed, immediately beginning to pull him after her again as she led them to the steps as quickly as she could with Wally in tow.

Wally lifted her into his arms and ran up the steps in a blur, coming to a halt before the slightly closed door to Ishan's bedroom and letting her back down hastily. Just as his hand reached out to grab the doorknob, an ear-splitting scream reminiscent of a bird's screech came from the room on the other side.

Wally wrenched it open, and his gaze immediately drifted to the dark pine crib, its occupant sitting up, mouth open and screaming at the top of his lungs, the baby blue covers a tangled pile at his feet.

Shayera pushed pass Wally and ran as fast as her feet could hit the ground to Ishan, picking him up protectively. He wails lessened slightly as he rested his head on her shoulder and she began consoling him gently with catches of a lullaby. Wally watched in silence, waiting for Shayera to elaborate.

"…they're really coming, this time?" he asked finally.

"Yes," Shayera breathed.

"…and it's not safe for him?"

"It's not _safe_ for anyone when they're involved; not even their own," she spat viciously. "They're bloodthirsty sons of bitches; ruthless, heartless, not fit to be living. What I knew of them was what convinced me to buy into helping to protect others; we've always been mortal enemies. That part was never a lie." She added the last part almost inaudibly.

"So…" Wally began, his normally fast-paced mind having a hard time catching up. "…what do you want to do?"

"I've got to get him out of here. Could you go get me a duffel –" Shayera began. Wally disappeared, and then reappeared before she could get out the next word. "bag?"

"Why do you need one?" He held it out to her, but she didn't take it.

"Empty out his dresser and closet; all of his clothes. Get all of his diapers, bottles, every trace of him, as much as you can in another bag."

"Done," he nodded uncertainly. Still slightly confused, it took Wally approximately eight seconds to do as he was told, a trip downstairs to the kitchen included.

"OK, why did I just do that?"

"As soon as they get here, they'll come after me." Shayera continued to gently rock Ishan, still frantically babbling non-stop as he tugged at the red shirt Wally hadn't changed him out of when putting him down. "As far as the rest of the Thanagarian society is concerned, I'm a traitor. And those bastards know whenever the rest of the society has turned its back on an individual. Don't ask me how, but they do."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"They single those individuals out because they know that they don't have the support of the others behind them. Those are who they deal with first, and when they come for me, they'll come for my son, too."

It took Wally's mind a few moments longer than its usual lightning quick speed to process the information she'd just given him.

"The Thanagarians you saw flooding away from the city earlier were headed to_ qeis,_ protected areas where they'll be safe unless every member of the military has been wiped out; they had them Thanagar, so doubtless, they have them set up here. The actual military will be the only present by as soon as the end of tomorrow in all of the main sectors' centers, including ours." Shayera paused in her explanation as she sat Ishan in his crib and turned back to Wally. "Wally, go get the other children; quickly. They might seek to spill Thanagarian blood first, but they don't discriminate between species."

"…we could always take them to the Watchtower," Wally offered, his voice barely reaching Shayera's ears.

"What?"

"Yeah; there's plenty of space there, it's secure, and it won't take too long, even considering getting through the guard points," he told her enthusiastically.

"The Watchtower?"

"Well, the one in Metropolis, anyways." Wally looked down at fluffy carpet under his feet. "After…the whole…thing, before the Bat and Superman had a chance to clear a new one and get it into orbit…we had one in Metropolis, as a temporary HQ; we could always take them there. And I know it's still there; no way anyone who didn't have previous, extremely detailed knowledge about it would ever be able to find it, much lest destroy the indestructible."

Shayera didn't say a word as she bit her lip.

"Where are they right now?" he asked, coming to stand beside her.

"Same place they've been all afternoon."

Wally nodded gravely, resisting the urge to offer physical comfort to Shayera as she obviously needed a moment to let her head stop reeling with everything that was happening, and sped off in the direction of the parlor he'd last seen the kids in.

Ishan pulled himself up using the crib railing, and stood, still whimpering. Shayera's own head was bowed as she reached out and gently traced the round little face with the back of her hand. Why the hell did she feel the need to cry now, when every second counted?

Every second…every moment.

She wondered how one moment in time had thrown her life into complete and utter chaos.

One moment's decision that had led to joy and love, and pain and regret at the same time.

Just one single fleeting moment that happened once upon a time had brought about all of the great and terrible things in her life.

She felt tiny fingertips brush against her cheek, and she opened her eyes to gaze down at Ishan's upturned face. His wide green eyes were locked on hers, a turmoil of emotions displayed in them as he stared at her…that exact same stare as his father; questioning little, but knowing it all at the same time.

Shayera smiled.

Thank God for that one moment.


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I don't own them, though I wish I did….Or at least Batsy and GL and Flash…Yeah, the Batman, GL, and Flash…and my own private island…

Brian: …I just go the _worst_ vision…..

A/N: Ok, I'm going to take a leaf out of a friend's book here…::drops to knees:: please, please forgive for taking so long to write this chapter! I've been busy, and…well, honestly…my attention span isn't all that great. Especially when a book, or a video game, or a TV beckons…and moving did not help. (nor getting grounded from writing, but…that's another story…) Also note that I've gone back and edited a ..._few _details in previous chapters. ::chuckles::

* * *

**Shattering Eternal: **Chapter Four

* * *

Shayera pulled a strand of her hair behind her ears as she entered the room, carefully balancing the tray on her arms. H'ryah looked up from where she and Herin sat on the blue comforter of one bed as she instructed Herin on flexing his wings so they wouldn't be as stiff. When Herin looked up and saw Shayera, he immediately pulled his wings in as close as possible and bowed his head, his hair falling over his shoulders.

"Are you both ok?" They nodded simultaneously.

"Yes, Lieutenant," Herin said.

"I thought you might be hungry, so I brought up some food," she tried as neither said anything more, taking the tray to the desk closest to the bed they sat. "I realize that it's not familiar to you, but I can assure you, the chef is an expert, and the food is delicious."

H'ryah tentatively stood first, sitting back down at the chair at the desk as her brother retrieved the chair from the second desk. He brought it back and set it beside hers wordlessly, then picked up one of the forks. He glanced to the side at his sister, and then back down at the unfamiliar plates of spaghetti looking back up at them.

"It won't bite, you know," Shayera told him quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder. He nodded again, starting at it as he assessed the food, then clumsily attempted to twirl a small bit onto his fork, the noodles slipping from it the first few times. He frowned in frustration as he stabbed at it again.

He turned to the side again, locking eyes with his sister as he raised the fork to his mouth. Herin stuffed the food into his mouth, his eyes shut tightly as he began chewing.

Shayera struggled not to double up in laughter as his eyes rocketed open.

"This….is….._amazing!"_ he exclaimed. Continuing to chew, he gave his sister the go-ahead with another nod, and she took a bite from her own plate, immediately exclaiming in the same manner as her brother. The two began to eat enthusiastically, the food swiftly starting to disappear from the plates.

"There's plenty more if you would like; you can slow down," Shayera smiled. "And while I wish that I could take the credit, sadly, I can't."

"If you're not the one responsible for this," H'ryah wondered aloud around a mouthful of food, "then who is?"

"That would be John."

"Who is John?" asked H'ryah.

Shayera paused. "He is a……very close friend." She continued to chew in silence, so Shayera assumed she was satisfied with the answer, and the subject was closed.

"You mean like Katar?"

Herin nearly choked on his food, his storm gray eyes becoming saucers as he spun on his sister. "H'ryah!" His sister had already turned back to her plate, her face quickly flushing as Herin shot her a reproving glance for a long moment before he finally faced Shayera apologetically. "Lieutenant, I'm –"

"No, Herin," Shayera held up a hand to stop him. "Please; just…Shayera. And…your sister is in no wrong," she added, shaking her head slightly to emphasis her point. Herin shifted uncomfortably as he hesitantly turned back around, studying the two of them out the corner of his eyes.

H'ryah tilted her head upward so that Shayera's face was clearly in her range of view. She locked eyes with Shayera, confusion etched into her soft features. "It's just…the way you speak about him –it's so _pure_, so full of joy."

When Shayera only continued to watch her in amusement, she swallowed again, courage firmly set. She breathed deeply as she tried to organize the erratic mess of ideas cluttering her mind.

"There's so much…_emotion_ when his name passes your lips, and all the things you say about him…" H'ryah conveyed finally, eyebrows knitted together. "There's a light; you just …_shine_ whenever he's brought up. …you're so different. You're…you're another _person_." Frowning, her eyes narrowed to stormy slits, and she looked to her brother. "Herin, please; you know what I mean."

"Well…" Herin responded awkwardly, and then shifted uncomfortably again as Shayera refocused her mixed gaze of amusement and something else unreadable to him.

"I guess…I mean…" he gulped slightly, fidgeting in his seat. Looking down, he cleared his throat again. "I suppose that you do. You…are a different person, at some points. You even sound…childlike, if you'll forgive me."

"I sound child-like?" Shayera felt one of her eyebrows rise to her hair line.

"But it's true!" H'ryah added quietly. "A child's voice… is one of the few joys of our world; you know that. It's lost as we mature, but… _your_ voice sounds exactly like a child's; I mean, not all the time, just when you speak about him. It's so light and full of wonder, and happiness, and it just has a natural music to it…and…" she glanced up at Shayera, her eyes pleading, asking her to understand what she was saying, but locking her eyes on Shayera's again, she found they were dancing with fire. Gray orbs widened in shock as H'ryah finally grasped the secret waltzing brightly in Shayera's clear green eyes. Herin's stared between the two of them blankly as H'ryah opened and closed her mouth, unable to speak.

His throat tightened, air unable to pass, and he felt his skin heat as he pushed his chair away from the desk and stood, still watching the two of them in confusion as he began to feel the space around him become tighter.

"What's wrong?" He'd never heard his voice so high, but H'yrah seemed to have finally found her tongue again. He felt the blood rush from the rest of his body to his head at an alarming rate.

"…you love him."

Herin's mind shut down for a moment that seemed to drag on forever before it flew dizzyingly back to the moments after she arrived back home from her other 'job' and they could finally wander less precariously about the house, could finally eat something warm, something other than the carefully prepared and planned and easy to access snacks Shayera prepared for them after she'd roused them from their sleep every morning and helped them stumble to their showers and watched with such maternal grace as they ate until she was satisfied they'd had a good feel of breakfast.

There was a mantle place above the fireplace; it didn't brightly gleam often because she usually kept the curtain on all the windows pulled tightly closed throughout the apartment, but he'd seen it that way before, and the reflection of the light made it only all the more beautiful. There were guardians, little statue angels that littered the mantle, that stood proudly, watching carefully over their charges, the stilled and frozen images of the Flash, Batman, Superman, Martian Manhunter, Wonder Woman; the Earth's heroes, all captured and frozen eternally at their proudest moment, their warmth so strong it stole away from their simple frames and into the bones of those in the room.

There were a few pictures of children, too. Young children; round faces; large eyes; chubby fingers; simple, undefined features; baby hair wildly tumbling over some of their heads. H'ryah had asked who they were; she had always been more daring than he. Herin still shivered slightly at the thought.

He'd always been careful to avoid all personal issues, but H'ryah…Herin himself didn't like the chilling feeling he got from interfering and inferring about Shayera; it unsettled his stomach, both from the uneasiness of breaking every principal he'd ever known and from the slight twinge of envy that H'ryah was incapable of feeling that same uneasiness. She had never encountered the grounds they were placed on before.

There was so much lost on his generation; that's what Shayera always said.

He felt guilt when he allowed his mind to remind him of what else he'd pushed to the back of the darkest compartments of his mind; there was picture after picture of the entire League…except for the Green Lantern.

There were only pictures of John.

Herin fell lifelessly back into his chair, barely noticing when Shayera quietly exited the room. She padded her way to the kitchen; she suddenly felt… warm… and she needed a drink desperately.

Shayera stopped suddenly, turning as an all too familiar knock sounded at her door. Straightening the loose t-shirt over her sweats, she moved toward the door. She heard footsteps, and cautiously, she checked over her shoulder; they, at least, were staying out of sight. A little time was all she would need, hopefully. She unlocked and opened the door.

"_Nheir._" John's smiling face greeted her in her tongue. She leaned forward, John catching her lips chastely with his own for a brief moment before she stepped aside to let him in, sweeping a strand of hair that had gotten loose from the messy bun she'd put her hair in behind an ear. John closed the door behind him before pulling her to him, holding her against his chest as he gently kissed her forehead, eyes closed. Shayera melted into his touch.

"You're early."

"I've got bad news," John whispered sadly in her ear. Her eyes met his in disappointment.

"What?"

"Batman wants everyone in DC, A.S.A.P; says he got an anonymous tip. The Princess is collecting the Kid right now."

"What about Superman?"

"I guess he's already there."

"Then why does he need us?"

"I, for one, am not about to question him; he's got certain abilities, you know? And besides that, he's already aggravated because Di's a little upset he's missing his turn tonight with Joseph and Joshua and –you know how he is about work and those kids."

Shayera frowned slightly. "Why'd they both have to leave?" John shrugged.

John shrugged his massive shoulders again. "Who knows? He didn't mention that much, but I heard Clark bring up something about Lois being pissed off for him insisting she and the kids stay at the manor with Alfred, too. Flash isn't too happy about leaving Chris and Adan, either." John's brows knitted together for the briefest period in confusion before he smiled gently. "One thing I do know for sure, however, is the sooner you get into your gear and we get our tails there and do our job, the sooner we can come back and relax over a nice dinner."

Shayera reached up and trailed the back of her hand along John's jaw line, then brushed her fingertips over his lips.

He grasped her hand and kissed her fingers. "This weekend, I was thinking; maybe we can go back to the lake. We can spend it together, you know?" He kissed her fingers gently again. "Just the two of us."

Shayera smiled, brushed a kiss over his jaw line and whispered in his ear. "I think I'd like that."

Herin glanced down to the floor as he leaned against the frame of the doorway for support as realization and the familiar gravelly tones trading words with Shayera hit him with the force of a Gordanian cruiser.

He couldn't look at H'ryah, just behind him, her head above his own, because he knew he wouldn't be able to look at himself right then, or for a long time after that. And he knew that H'ryah couldn't look at him, because he knew her, and he knew that she wouldn't be able to look at herself either.

Because they both knew what Shayera didn't, had known before the whole game had started, what Shayera wouldn't know until it was too late.

Shayera wasn't going to return.

Not as the same Shayera they'd come to know, at least; that was over.

And they couldn't do anything; everything had already been set into motion.

* * *

Raven fumbled with the lock as the cool metal slipped between her thin fingers; usually, she had no problem whatsoever with these types of things, but as her fingers trembled, she began to get more frustrated with the thing as it refused to comply. Finally, the lock gave, and the chain slackened. Hastily, Raven gathered the artistically carved locket and its attached chain up, cautiously stuffing it into her pocket and falling back into the plush blue seat, light footsteps echoing in her ears. She groaned inwardly; she did not feel like talking to anyone at the moment.

"Dad says you need to eat." The voice demanded that Raven do as she was told, and held only the slightest bit of concern. Raven scowled.

"I'm not hungry."

Silence hung in the well lit room.

"What's your problem?"

Raven closed her eyes, exhaling deeply as she began to mentally count to ten. "What do you want, Christina?"

"Me? I want to be able to come in here, and not see you sitting there moping like the world has come to an end."

Raven clenched her fists.

They knew how her temper could get, and yet they still pushed it. She was _not_ going to be held responsible should she bite off someone's head. Specifically, Chris's.

Chris folded her arms over her pink overalls, and marched from her place in the door way over to Raven with all the authority a seven-and-a-half year old could possibly posses.

"Why do you like him so much, anyway?"

"Why?" Raven repeated. "Why do you hate him so much?"

Chris scowled at Raven's bowed head. "That's low, Raven; really low." She glared at Raven's dark head. "It's not that big of a deal. It's not like he's dead."

Raven stood up quickly, almost knocking the chair she sat in over and into the pale blue wall. "'Not like he's dead.'? Look at him, Christina; look!" Chris looked down and away from Raven's slowly coloring face. Screaming in exasperation, she grabbed the slightly older girl by her shoulders and shook her. "Christina!"

"I don't want to!" she screamed, tightly screwing her eyes shut.

"You have to!"

"Stop it!"

"You need to, Christina!" Raven yelled back, spinning her around. Chris reluctantly opened her eyes, immediately wishing she could shut them again. Ishan laid drowning under snow white covers on his over-sized bed, numerous wires forming a tangled pattern as they ran from him to continuously beeping machines, their monitoring of little or of no importance to Chris as she didn't understand what they were for.

His chest rose slowly, the skin frighteningly barely contrasting against the blankets piled on him, more wires attached to his chest; his wings, carefully cleaned and bandaged, lay outstretched under his suddenly smaller body, the normal gray plumage's color sickeningly drained.

Chris paused, going limp in Raven's grasp for a moment, her green eyes wavering as she watched in silence. Screaming, she tore from Raven.

"I don't need to do anything," she hissed quietly, balling her fists at her sides as her voice slowly rose. "Don't you get it? He's fine, Raven! He's always just fine!"

"You don't know that!" Raven screeched, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. "You can't know that! You can't!"

"You can't know, either! You don't know that he's not!" Chris stomped her feet in frustration, her words getting caught behind the lump in her throat. "Don't you see? He has to be; he always has to be!"

"Liar."

"Brat."

"Witch."

Chris's eyebrows lowered, her eyes narrowing to green slits. "Dope."

Raven screamed in anger, rushing toward her, planning to solidly punch the slightly older girl. She was halted half-way through carrying out her plan as she suddenly found herself suspended in mid-air, a scowl on her face as she realized Chris was in the same predicament.

"Christina Madelyn West, why in the world are you screaming?"

She lessened her glare at Raven only fractionally as she swung in her father's grasp. "Ask her." She pointed an accusing finger at Raven.

Wally turned to her, eyebrow raised in question. "Raven? What's wrong?"

"She doesn't care, Uncle Wally," Raven pouted.

"Care about what, sweetheart?"

"She doesn't care what happens to anyone!" she folded her arms across her chest. "She's just selfish."

Wally sighed, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. He lowered himself to the floor, sitting on the fluffy beige carpet, carefully situating either girl beside him. "Look, girls," he paused, his voice low and harder than he wanted as he began, "I'm sure that…_everyone_ cares a great deal about the rest of this family, ok? This….is not something we ever planned for, and we're all dealing with it in our own ways. Maybe for you, babe," he turned to Chris, "you're way of dealing with it is to ignore it. I know that's just your impulse, but…it's not good for you. It makes other feel like you really don't care, even when you do, understand?" Chris nodded hesitantly, sniffing silently as she laid against her father's chest. "And you, sweetheart; you're worried, and you don't mind showing that; but you need to understand that just because everybody's not going about things the same way as you are doesn't mean they don't care, too. Do you see that?" Raven's watery eyes closed tightly.

"Yes, Uncle Wally," she whispered, leaning into his chest, too. She sniffed for a moment before asking into his shirt, "…why? Why did this have to happen? Why did it have to be him?" She gazed up at him.

"Why did it have to be _us_?"

"We haven't had enough heart-ache, apparently; I guess Life isn't through with us just yet." Wally squeezed them gently. They sat in silence, the only sound that of the constant, faint beeps and Ishan's slow, steady breathing. Raven and Chris continued to burry their heads into Wally's chest as he looked down.

Three heads shot up suddenly, hearts pounding away in their chests as franticly as the suddenly earsplitting beeping.

"Make it stop!" Chris shrieked, clamping her hands over her ears. Raven did likewise.

Wally rocketed upward, carefully leaving the girls on the floor.

He tuned-out the girls' cries of question with a twang of guilt, trying to piece together the answer to the questions himself. His eyes swiftly made a round of the monitoring machines, he heart sinking as they settled on the one causing the panic.

Raven and Chris had quieted by then, the chilling silence surrounding Wally clearly informing them something was seriously wrong.

Wally tried to swallow pass the lump in his throat, opening his mouth repeatedly to speak, but failing. He swallowed again, shaking his head desperately.

"Go get Dick," he managed. "Now."

* * *

"But what's going on? Where are we going?" Bryant frowned, fighting subtly against Dick's hold as low thunder rolled over the sky, the magnified resonance of soft, silky feathers swiftly beating up and down, accompanying a constantly moving swarm that blocked whatever limited light might have been offered another night to the flooded streets below.

"Joshua, for once in your life, shut up and listen to someone." Bryant didn't respond, or even glare; glancing back at him, Colton realized that Bryant, maybe for first time in his life, was honestly scared.

"It's late," Tim ruminated. "Are you sure we should do this now?"

"We don't have a choice." He looked to Shayera. "If we don't leave tonight, we won't be able to leave tomorrow, and then it'll be too late." Tim gazed downward, his steady breathing condensing in little clouds before his face.

"Do you think we can make it all the way there?"

"We have to." He shivered involuntarily at the icy tone of Wally's voice. _Had to? What if it wasn't possible?_

The seconds seemed to stretch to hours, the hours to an eternity as their walk finally came to an end, a set of the heavy golden gates built into the barrier around the city rising into view, menacing in the black of the night. Shayera glanced ahead; a few members of the military stood near the gates, heavy lanterns hanging at intervals high above their heads, the light bouncing eerily off of the gate and changing small pockets of darkness into daylight as the officials tried to manage the excessive amount of panicking Thanagarians and humans trying desperately to remove themselves from the approaching danger.

"What about –"

"Lieutenant." Maliciousness dripping from every syllable, the low, level voice interrupted Tim's abrupt questioning.

Shayera stiffened and came to a halt.

Clad in white, dark eyes narrowed behind the gold mask, a female emerged from the thicks of the crowd into the light, a smirk firmly in place on her lips.

Shayera scowled. "Paran."

The smirk on her face grew. "In the flesh and feathers. Funny, you know, I thought you'd burned with that little earthling boyfriend of yours."

Wally gripped Shayera's free arm. "She's not worth it."

"I'd listen to him if I were you." She began to near them, her gait slow. "In case you haven't noticed since you've been in hiding, you're not the ones in control anymore. Really, Truth be told, the only reason you're still living is because of that dearly departed, crazy-ass Bat and the surprisingly strong hold he had on this pile of trash you called a city."

"Wench!" Tim spat viciously at Paran. She turned inquisitively to him, the reddening of his face invisible in the dark he remained standing in. Dick gave him only the slightest of nudges, feeling the blood begin to boil in his own veins.

"You should have been dead a long time ago," Shayera growled through gritted teeth.

"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart," Paran smiled, ignoring the glare she was given. "You will be soon enough."

Ishan's green eyes suddenly shone brightly as they moved up to Paran's face in what could only be interpreted as a glare. Paran glanced back down at him.

"Oh, that's rich."

Wally quickly stepped between the two as Shayera's eyes flared. A shadow fell over Paran's form, and she hastily took a few steps back as the shadow gained wings and shortened, its owner coming closer.

"Dai." The name was spoken bitterly, the irritation with the person showing in Paran's voice even if not in her expression under her helmet, tucking her wings down behind her reluctantly.

The others looked up. The man wasn't tall by Thanagarian or human standards, but the air about him suggested otherwise as his eyes, dark under the shadow of his helmet, roamed quickly over their faces. He suddenly pulled his wings in behind him, simultaneously lowering them as if from view for the briefest period when he saw Shayera.

"Lieutenant." Unlike Paran, the slightly melodic tone he spoke with gave no signs of disdain. Shayera did not reply.

"Leaving? These are friends, then?" He didn't wait for an answer before turning to Pan. "Why have you not let them pass? We _are_ trying to evacuate the city," he reminded her offhandedly, turning back to them and lowering his voice in caution. "Watch your step; more than you know are looking for blood to be spilled." He melted back into the crowd. Wordlessly, they began to make their way pass the silently fuming Paran; she bumped deftly in Shayera's wings as she moved off in the opposite direction. Shayera froze in her tracks and shook her head vigorously, quickly catching up with them.

Paran watched silently from her place in the shadows of the still gargantuan crowd as they disappeared through the gates before activating the communicator on her wrist. The screen flickered briefly before a sharp image of a familiar face appeared on-screen.

"Report, Paran."

"I've done as you've asked, _Hro._" She failed horribly in trying to the keep the sarcasm from leaking into her voice. The man on-screen didn't seem pleased.

"I don't seem to remember such a swift rebuke from the planet when they knew me as such," he growled impatiently.

"Well, I seem to remember that you still got your ass beat at the end of it all." The man scowled.

"The job was taken care of effectively, then?"

"Fortunately; I think I psyched her out a little when I told her to mark my words, but that dolt, Dai, almost ruined all of my fun." She quickly bit her tongue as the man's eyes widened.

"You will treat him with respect, Paran," he told her fearfully.

Paran frowned. "I could care less about who his father is."

"I'd like to see you say that again to his father's face."

"He's little more than a child. He still _speaks_ with the music of a child in his voice, for crying out loud." She felt her face beginning to redden. "I grow impatient with that little brat."

The man grinned widely, leaning in toward the screen.

"Patience, sweetheart, is exactly what counts the most right now." The screen flickered off.

* * *

Wally gently brushed Shayera's hair out of her face. "You feelin' better yet?"

Shayera glared at him.

"… I'm sorry; I didn't have a choice."

She sighed deeply, turning slightly from his touch. "I can't believe this…" She stared up at the ceiling. "Is it too late for me to go back to the tower?" Pleadingly, she glanced at Wally, but his frown didn't waver.

"We've been over this already, Shy; he'd _kill_ me if he knew the truth. He wouldn't trust you to even the android, and _that's _saying something," Wally repeated once again. "You may be able to fool your employees, but _I _can't fool John. And besides that… I happen to value my life, and a few other aspects of my being, you know?"

"You told him?" Shayera bolted upright in the bed.

"No," Wally quickly replied. "He still doesn't know."

She leaned back only slightly. "Promise me you won't tell him."

"Believe you me, I won't; that's your place." He gently pulled the covers on the bed about her more securely. She moved back down under the covers, lying on one side as she faced him. He brought the palm of one hand up to her head, gently stroking back through her hair, and for a moment, she was staring into H'ryah's eyes again, knowing the unsettled look there was caused by her own lifeless demeanor, and she could feel Herin sitting uneasily at her back but trying to offer comfort in his own, clumsily but carefully stroking back her hair in the same manner Wally was now. "He deserves to know."

"You don't get how serious this is, Wally."

"I'd say I damn well do."

"You don't understand how complicated this is."

"But I think he'd understand and that he'd be there for you." Wally's voice rose slightly from the whisper it had been previously. He made sure he was holding her gaze before he softly added, "Either way."

"It's still so much more than that, Wally," Shayera shook her head. "It's an understanding."  
"Do you think he wouldn't understand?"

"I think he'd be pretty hard-pressed."

"You should give him a chance; he deserves that much." _I deserve a chance to understand, _he thought. "You don't know how a person will handle things, or how they'll take them, or how they'll look at them, or what they'll do about it. _You've_ got to understand that. You're not J'onn; you can't just look inside his mind whenever you want." He watched anxiously as the expression on her face slid into the same one of depression he'd been watching for the last few months. He inhaled deeply, and wasn't surprised at the heavy weight on his chest pressing the air back out.

"I used to be able to, though." Shayera moved from under Wally's hand gently and turned to the other side. "I need to sleep."

"Are you going to be ok?"

"I'll call you if I feel sick."

"You promise?"

"Scout's honor."

"You were never a scout," Wally grinned. He stood from the chair and walked quickly through the automatic doors and from the mini-infirmary on the Javelin.

"How is she?" Captain Atom inquired as Flash approached the captain's seat he sat in.

"Better. She's threatening to kill me for dragging her here, but I still mean it; even if now I have to physically pull her screaming and kicking back up here, she's coming. It's safer."

Captain Atom nodded in understanding. "So… what's going to happen?"

Wally shook his head. "I'm not sure."

He didn't ask another question for a moment as Wally settled into one of the co-pilot chairs and glanced through the window.

"…You want to… talk about it?" Captain Atom asked hesitantly.

"I don't know if… if anyone would understand," Wally whispered. Captain Atom squirmed slightly in his seat, feeling they were no longer talking about the same thing. "I mean… what if I'm wrong?"

"Wrong about what?" He prodded innocently.

"You and Green Arrow are friends with Kara; you _know_ what."

"Right. Sorry."

"Don't be; I don't think I really know myself."

They remained in silence until Captain Atom had docked the Javelin, and Wally had retreated to awaken Shayera. Captain Atom switched off the controls, unbuckled himself from the seat, and stumbled down the ramp and from the ship with all the air of the military man he was until Kara flew into him tightly, hugging him.

"Hey, Kara," he smiled sheepishly as Green Arrow, bottle of water to his mouth, approached, eyes closed. He finally removed it from his mouth and glanced at Captain Atom.

"So, rust bucket? What was it like?"

"Don't ask me, pansy. All I did was fly the thing," Captain Atom replied stiffly. "But if the military taught me anything, it's when there's danger, and I'm telling you right now, it'd be in our best interest to get the hell out of dodge." Green Arrow quickly followed his gaze behind him and upward to observation level as Supergirl stared at him incredulously.

"For once, I'd say you were right," Green Arrow muttered as he caught sight of Green Lantern and J'onn leaning against the rail on either side of Batman and Diana, Superman acting his part as the leader at the center of the group.

John watched stoically as J'onn as Green Arrow protectively grabbed Supergirl's hand, and he, Captain Atom, and Kara quickly disappeared from view.

"Probably to the cafeteria to spread rumors," Diana mused sourly.

"I don't think so," J'onn replied as Superman leaped suddenly over the rail, falling easily to the ground and landing gracefully on his feet. Diana followed simultaneously with Batman, and J'onn shifted his body mass, becoming intangible as he slid through the floor and from view.

Wally appeared at the entrance to the Javelin, pausing as he looked to his left, then made his way down the ramp, Shayera's hand in his as he led her. They came to a halt side by side as their feet hit level ground.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The others had reassembled on the floor before them, a safe few yards away.

Superman was the first to move, stepping forward and hugging Shayera tightly as Wally let her hand slip from his.

"Welcome back, Shayera," he told her. When he pulled back, his face was lined with grief, his smile unfaltering, but not nearly as bright as Shayera remembered it once was. She glanced over his shoulders.

Batman slowly moved forward. "We have a situation, Ms. Hol."

"What do you mean?" Wally stepped before Shayera protectively.

"We're not going to hurt her, Flash; step aside. You're making a scene," the Dark Knight informed him tersely. Flash chose to ignore the fact that the operating team had indeed halted their jobs for the moment as they intently watched the original league members.

"We're in this together." Diana moved to stand beside the Bat. "All of us."

"Shayera," J'onn came forward, Superman glancing briefly at him before falling back in line with Diana and Batman. "I realize that the last time we communed, we parted on what could hardly be considered friendly terms. However, I can guarantee you that all of us present wish no ill-will upon you, as I know you have no ill-will upon us. At this point, there are far more important matter, one being that it has come to our attention that we are about to face a crisis."

"And when did this happen?" Flash frowned indignantly, still searching the other's faces skeptically. Batman and J'onn stared back at him with the same, hard, non-emotional expressions on their faces, Diana meeting his eyes in the same way as a teacher trying to get the ABC's through to a child who still didn't seem to get it. Superman seemed to be looking through him and to Shayera.

He stopped as realization hit him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We didn't think it fair to place the weight of what was happening on your shoulders, too," Diana replied shortly, her voice losing a vast amount of its edge.

"I'm a member of this team, too; I helped found the place just like you." Flash emphasized the point by not only raising his voice, but jabbing his thumb into his chest and stepping closer. "_I_ don't think it was fair you guys didn't think I could handle knowing som–"

"We need to continue you this elsewhere," Batman cut in. He turned to J'onn. "Can you have your men clear out of the main monitor womb?"

J'onn eyes glowed briefly. "I have requested their departure."

Flash stared angrily between the two of them.

"We'll finish this there, then." The Bat turned to Flash. "I suppose this would make more sense if you were to actually see it, which is just as well; we need to check up on this as it is."

* * *

Wally continued to breathe heavily as his eyes slid closed and his head tilted upward, his tongue mumbling a prayer; slowly, his body slid down the wall to the ground, one of his hands tangled in his hair. Tim continued to stand motionless on the other side of the room.

"So… all we can do is wait?"

Dick nodded. "There's nothing we can do. I've never had many real dealings with Shayera, but…I'm assuming his body knows what it's doing. I'd already disconnected the medicines and outside aid that was being administered last week, when we first noticed something was wrong, so…."

Wally shook his head slowly as his body shook with silent sobs.

Tim's fists balled tightly before opening, then repeated the process a few more times. "How did they know? How could they know?"

Dick's head lowered slightly. "Truth be told, I'm not that surprised, considering, many native Earth materials could in theory be harmful to the point of lethal to an outside being, but…" he emphasized as Wally stiffened, "as far as I can tell, this particular poison's only intent was destruction of the immune system." Wally sighed deeply. "Of course…that could be far more heurism to overcome than deadly force. Bearing in mind Ishan's natural immune system seems to be more heavily influenced by his mother's genes and is already slightly unbalanced and underdeveloped as he's not yet mature, I'd say the most logical conclusion is that it's fighting against anything we try to give him as a natural instinct…but it's weak because of said poison." He paused, trying to keep the crack slowly tightening its grip on his voice from being evident to two other men present.

"His body had already…temporarily ceased many functions; possibly as soon as it happened, which means it's been running through this process the whole time; it shouldn't really have that much more of a job to complete. After some strenuous review…I can pretty much conclude it's a normal automatic reaction a Thanagarian body would have if it felt itself or its livelihood were threatened… and hope that I'm right."

"'Functions'… those happen to include his senses?"

"Yes."

Eyes dark and swallowing all light flooding into them, Wally gazed at Dick as if he couldn't really see him. "You mean…he isn't aware of… us? Of_ anything_ going on around him?"

Hesitantly, Dick's head showed affirmation. "In Layman's terms, yes, I guess that's what you would say." Silence entered the room. "Look, here's the thing; now that his body isn't working against what we thought was helping him, it can focus more on its current situation. I'd say he'll be up in two days at the most, and he should be fine, almost back to full health, maybe a little exhausted at the worst. But only if we allow his body to do as it need, which requires we keep any and all disturbances to a minimum, and allow the process to run its course. If we were to go against this….there's a chance when his body 'reboots', for lack of a better word, it might not start all functions again."

"Meaning, what, in other words, permanent loss of senses?" Tim questioned as Wally seemed to slip into another dimension all his own.

"Yes."

Dick cleared his throat several times, carefully observing the familiar parlor, looking for something, anything, to distract him from the here and now. His gaze wandered to the portraits of Joseph and Joshua accompanying that of Bruce's parents and of Bruce and Diana themselves. And though that alone was enough to tug at his heart, anything was better then facing his present company, acknowledge the pain evident on their faces.

His eyes lingered on a portrait of Bruce, his tired eyes soft as he cradled an infant to his chest, its crystal blue eyes at half mast as one tiny hand rested against his cheek. Dick hastily looked away; that wasn't something he'd like to think about at that particular moment, either.

"I'm going to go check on Josh," he muttered as he slinked out of the door and found himself pacing down the hallway as quickly as he could without technically running. He tried to calm his breathing, suddenly accentuated as his head began to pound; he shouldn't be thinking. Thinking wasn't good. Not in this house.

Thinking led to remembering; remembering led to pain.

Pain was in the past. They had to live in the here and now if they wanted to live at all.

Dick ducked into a room after stumbling through the wing he and every respectable member of the Batclan would rather die than visit. Concern for their livelihood, oddly enough, was usually the reason behind a visit in the first place. Plain beige walls greeted him, the same TV surrounded by movies of almost every known genre lined up along one of the walls; game controls were still out in front of it as if he himself had just stopped playing one of his favorite games after once again having gotten hurt seriously enough to be put on bed rest. There were laden bookcases, their burdens beaten and battered after much use; a few writing and drawing tablets lay scattered under the books' gaze, the sketches and drabbles not his hand, nor his style.

The bed covers were carefully folded back to one silky gray sheet, under which lay Bryant. He was carefully reading over something, propped up on his elbows, arms crossed as he laid on his stomach, eyes narrowed.

"How ya doin'?" Dick asked hesitantly.

"OK; back isn't sore anymore. I asked Brian to grab me a book, but…he had the mail from the front, and I think he accidentally left some behind. I… kinda… already read it...but I didn't understand it, anyway."

He held up said letter, grinning sheepishly, the small gray panel flickering to life as Bryant instinctively activated it and turned at an odd angle so he could watch Dick. Lines of text appeared on an abruptly existing blue screen, running by quickly from the bottom of the screen to the top. Dick moved closer and took the letter held out to him, silently loathing how thoroughly Thanagarian technology and ways had taken over their lives and society.

His fingers quickly swept over the screen, hitting the appropriate instructions, and the text disappeared, replaced with the letter's actual body, the Thanagarian characters smoothly melting into English. His eyes skimmed over it quickly, becoming darker with each moment. He threw it angrily as he approached the end, and the blue screen flickered again before going out as it bounced harmlessly, stopping as it came in contact with the bookcase.

Dick's face blanched. He seemed a lot more ominous suddenly as he swept a hand through his long, raven hair, but still didn't move from his spot.

"Damn it!" Dick hit the wall to his right hard, and Bryant was surprised he hadn't punched a hole through it. "Damn them all!"

"….Dick?"

Breathing heavily again, he covered his face with his arm, pulling it quickly across his face as if to wash something unpleasant from his countenance. For a moment he didn't speak.

"Get up; get dressed."

* * *

Richie shut his eyes tighter as the door opened quietly and muted footsteps, one pair lighter than the other, entered the room. Brian continued to snore lightly, and he heard the sheets rustling over the tread of whoever was entering the room as Bryant turned in his sleep. The rustling stopped, but so had the footsteps; they'd stopped walking. Richie waited tensely for the silence to be broken. Muddled….the voices were muddled, but he could make it out, if only barely in his subconscious.

_"You know we don't…you don't have to do this."_

_"And if I don't?" _

There wasn't an answer.

_"We have to finish this now, before it gets worst…before something happens we'll regret, and then we'll never forgive ourselves knowing we could have stopped it."_

_"But that's just it; we can't stop it by ourselves, but they can! They can! They've been holding them off for years; centuries; millennia! Be reasonable…."_

There was an awkward moment of silence.

_"He needs you."_

_"Don't you think I know that? Why would I even consider this otherwise?"_

Richie found himself holding his breath; he knew those voices, even in his subconscious. _Especially _in his subconscious. He'd hear the same two voices every day of his life waking up and going down for as long as he could remember…after his parents' voices had faded away. Whatever Shayera and Wally were discussing wasn't good. It sounded so familiar…but why?

**_"I'll be back soon; I promise."_**

His father. When was the last time he'd heard his father's voice?

**_He felt so comfortable in his father's arms…his head was buried in his neck, and the rumble of his father's chest as he spook soothed him ....And Raven…his sister, was in his father's arms, too…_**

**_"You can't be serious about this; it's su–"_**

**_His mother; why did she sound so worried?_**

_"**Promise me something."**_

**_"Anything_**_."_

_"**Take care of my little angels; that includes you."**_

**_No! He didn't want to move. He didn't want to let go of his dad's neck; not this time. But…why not? Raven whined in protest, and a baby started crying._**

_What? _No, his dreams and reality were melting together.

**_"_**_Promise." _

See? Wally's voice, not his mom's…but why would he say that? Ishan; Ishan was the baby crying; now, not then. There was no baby then…but Ishan wasn't crying now, was he? He'd stopped by now; would he have stopped that quickly? Yes; that was plausible. Richie had just been dozing off…he was just exhausted….

**_See? No more crying; just his half-intelligible protests, harmonizing with Raven's. And a laugh, his dad's laugh, but it wasn't like usual. Something wasn't right. Something was wrong._**

**_"I love you."_**

**_His dad didn't respond to his mother. Why? He felt his father hug them, he and his sister in his mom's arms and all._**

**_"_**_I'll come back."_

No, Shayera's voice, not his dad's. Not his dad's? Why would Shayera say that? It didn't make sense…The door was pulled closed. He counted to ten slowly, squinted through his eyes for a few moments, making sure they were gone. Blinking in the darkness of the room, he sat slowly under the covers, glanced towards the end of his bed and to the left.

"Brian!" Brian readjusted himself in the bed, Richie's frantic whisper falling to deaf ears. Deciding he'd rather not risk waking anymore people than necessary, Richie pushed back the blankets on his bed, swung his legs over the edge, and dropped down to the floor silently. He darted across the room and hopped on Brian's bed, consequentially jolting Brian. With a groan, Brian sat and blinked, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands before scowling.

"You realize normal people are trying to sleep right now?"

"Since when have you been normal? And how can you sleep, knowing something's wrong?"

"It's not like we can do anything except keep doing what we usually do, and in the middle of the night, I'm usually asleep."

"You telling me you can actually act as if nothing's wrong?"

Brian's scowl weakened, his eyes darkening. "We don't know if something's wrong."

"Of course; that's why we're back at the Watchtower since God knows when, and Aunt Shay was freaking out."

"I don't think she'd like being described as 'freaking out'." Richie exhaled sharply.

"Whatever; just forget it," he whispered quickly, the tone in his voice suddenly becoming more urgent. "Look, did you just hear Ishan crying?"

Yawning, Brian shook his head. "You know I can't hear as well as you, though; that's a thick wall between these rooms, and I wasn't blessed with hearing that good."

Richie frowned. "That's besides the point; it's not that difficult to tell if a baby's crying."

"Well what's the big deal anyway?" He slipped from under his bed covers, folding his legs underneath him as he shook slightly in his dark blue wife-beater and boxers in the chill room.

"They're gone."

"Who?" Brian was suddenly more alert, casting a hasty guide to his brother's bed as he lowered his voice.

"Uncle Wally; and Aunt Shay," Richie replied. "They left."

"They left? Why would they leave? How do you know that?"

"I told you, something isn't right." Brian leaned back, his legs drawn up to his chest, bare arms wrapped around them, and sighed deeply. "Don't give me that; this is just too sudden, too weird. I mean…Didn't you see them? They were panicked; there was so much fear…"

"'Them'? Who are you talking about, Kal?"

"The Thanagarians, Joseph!" Richie hissed slightly louder than he intended, and both boys' eyes grazed over Bryant, still asleep, before locking onto the other's heatedly. "You can't tell me you didn't see it; you know what I'm talking about." His voice grabbed Brian, intended to shake him until he'd agree.

The scowl reappeared. "I know that you overreact, Richard."

Silence. The air between them rose in temperature, thickened until they were blinded to each other. "You know, too. Look, I heard them… talking."

"About …what?"

"I don't know…but it sounded familiar…and I didn't like it." Richie looked down to his legs, picked at his knee as he sat Indian style on the mused covers. "Can you…remember? The last time? You saw them, I mean."

"…I try not to."

"Why?"

"…There's something about it that just seems…"

"… That that's it?"

Brian looked down and didn't move for a moment, then crawled back under his covers, turned his back to Richie. "Yeah."

Brian didn't turn around as he felt Richie finally slide off the bed and heard him climb clumsily into his own, adjust himself under the covers. It wasn't hard to not open his eyes once he closed them and turned his back on Richie, the tears lingering on his eyelashes as they yet remained pressed together.

No, he didn't want to remember the last time he'd heard his parents, lain in his mother's arms, hugged his dad good-bye, true though he _could_ remember it better than staying up with Alfred waiting for his dad to get back in, stealing a bite of cake from his dad's dessert plate and smiling innocently at his mother just because he could. It _had_ only been a year ago…maybe a little over. Exact amounts weren't important to the four-year old. He at least knew it was only a few months before Ishan was born….

Which led him to another thought that, had he been fully awake, would have made his eyes snap open, caused his feet to race over to push Richie into shared realization, would have had him screaming in alarm and confusion and uncertainty all at the same time instead of merely mumbling it almost inaudibly to himself as a troubled sleep came and claimed him, carried him off.

**_"Why do you ask?"_**

**_"Just wondering," Dick answered._**

**_"….I don't know."_**

**_Wally frowned. "What do you mean, 'you don't know'?"_**

**_"Exactly what I said, Carrot-top; I –don't –know."_**

**_"…I want you to tell me what the hell is wrong." Wally insisted._**

**_"Nothing's wrong, idiot," she grumbled._**

**_"Yes there is," Wally insisted. "Come on, Shy, it's us."_**

**_"….he's never cried," Shayera whispered almost inaudibly._**

**_Tim's forehead creased as he frowned and his eyes narrowed to slits as he stood and faced Shayera. "'He's never cried'? What's that supposed to mean?" Tim ignored the warning Wally gave him about waking up the kids._**

**_Brian hadn't thought it wise to tell Wally it was technically Richie and Ishan they should worry about waking up; he and the others just so happened to be already wide awake and outside of the door to the living room they sat in . _**

**_The adults just didn't know it yet._**

**_"…he's never cried?" Tim asked again almost inaudibly._**

**Who?_ screamed Brian's mind. Dick cried; Tim cried. He knew Wally cried, and they couldn't be talking about Alfred because even Chris knew _he'd _been crying since before they were born. And they couldn't have been talking about one of _them,_ because every last one of them had definitely cried at one point._**

**_It suddenly clicked in his mind as he glanced back at the others._**

"Ishan doesn't cry."


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: ……….

Richie: She doesn't own them, plain and simple.

Raven: Just as well.

Colton: Just as well, what?

Raven: Rich kept it plain and simple.

Colton: ….so…?

Raven: ….Well, it's not like either of you could comprehend anything more than that anyway.

A/n: Well, now that my computer and have seemed to have reached an agreement glares at the computer…

* * *

**Eternal Shattered: **Chapter Five

* * *

Flash stared expressionlessly at the screen as Batman brought up a map.

"This is us," he commented as matter-of-factly as if he'd just told them the Earth was round. A large red circle appeared around a miniature replica of the Earth. "This," he began, zooming out and typing in a few more commands so that another red circle was scripted around a large mass of several tiny dots, "is a fleet. A fast approaching fleet whose course I've calculated. This fleet is on its way to Earth."

"And?" Flash questioned incredulously.

Batman turned around in his feet to face him. "And," he mocked Flash, gritting his teeth, "it happens to be Thanagarian."

"Impossible," Shayera whispered.

"_Very _possible, Ms. Hol; it's happening right now." Nobody spoke for a moment after Batman.

"So… what are we going to do?" Flash asked.

"We've already decided on a course of action," Superman intervened, turning to the kid himself. "J'onn, if you would kindly send the signal?"

"_What_ signal?" Flash began to vibrate slightly enough for it to be barely noticeable. "Why didn't I have a say in this?"

"For the same reason I didn't," Green Lantern informed without blinking and without removing his gaze from the screen.

"Ok, so what exactly _is _this 'course of action'?"

"… Batman, do we have all personnel present?"

Batman pulled up another window and scrolled for a while, clicking his way through a series of rosters and tables. "We have a team of four about three minutes from Watchtower Two."

"How long will it take to get everyone to the debriefing deck?"

"Five minutes, give or take, depending on how many are in the living quarters and cafeteria of Watchtowers One and Two."

"That gives us just about enough time, then," Superman sighed "Has Bruce Wayne already taken care of those who regularly use the living quarters?"

"I've already pulled a few strings and tied up the loose ends; unless they rebel in a 'blow-up-the-Watchtowers' kind of way, I don't think anyone will have any consequential problems with the transitions," Batman shortly answered him as Flash grew impatient.

"_Will somebody please explain what the hell is going on around here?_" All the eyes at the table turned in his direction, but Flash didn't back down or retake his seat.

Diana and Superman traded glances. "…Tell them to make it as fast as possible, J'onn," Superman muttered, rising from his seat at the round table and exiting the conference room. Diana turned to Flash.

"Flash… I don't know how to explain this… I honestly think it would be easier if you heard what Superman is about to announce –"

"He's disbanding them, isn't he?" Diana stopped. "And you guys agreed to it. …Why?"

"Flash, you don't understand –"

He hit the table with both fists, glaring down at the smooth metal top he rested his hands on. "I'm tired of being told… that I don't understand things. Why doesn't anyone ever believe me? Why doesn't anybody think I can handle anything?"

"We just don't want them to risk their lives for something that could possibly be avoided. We all agreed that it would be best if we tried talking with them first, _without_ the backdrop of the current League."

"Yeah, right," Flash snorted. "Because _they're _coming with an entire fleet, and the last time, they _only _tried to destroy the Earth and every shred of life on it…"

Diana frowned. "We know that last time they were only looking for a way to save their world; they were going about it the wrong way, true, but… if everything that happened has taught us nothing else, it's this: we need to practice solving the problem _before_ we allow it to get out of hand and have spilled blood. That's what makes us different from the Lords, remember? _You_ told us that."

Flash angrily back away from the table and edged to the door stiffly, his eyes glowing under his mask as his back hit the door. "Yeah; great plan. And hey, everyone even agreed to it. Except for us," he gestured to Shayera and Green Lantern. "But hell, you guys always made all the decisions anyway, didn't you?"

He fell through the entrance, the door closing on his irate countenance before Diana could say anything.

Flash, breathing heavily, stared at the door for a long moment, unsure of what he should do next.

Finally seeming to be able to think again, he sprinted down the hall and to the elevator, waiting impatiently for it open. The doors had barely slid apart before he had ducked inside was pummeling the button for the observatory level directly above the debriefing room. The mechanism climbed too slowly for Flash's taste.

He bolted when the bell finally rang and he was allowed onto the catwalk-like ledge that ran along the whole of the wall's length. He glanced down to the center the ledge encircled, his hands gripping the railing tightly.

Heroes were still pouring in the doors. He assumed the Javelin with the last four had just docked as the crew personnel had left their posts and were gathered on the curve opposite him, chattering excitedly, in confusion as they glanced down to the floor below them.

He didn't see Superman; yet.

Flash imagined this had been what the first day must have looked like from a distance; everybody wandering here and there, not quite sure what was about to happen, where to go, what they were supposed to be doing. The noise they made bubbled up from them like the foam head of a beer, rising until it spilled over the catwalk suspended high above their heads.

The boy scout finally made his appearance, holding the same stance he'd adopted during their initial introduction, though his face was much more solemn this time around. The crowd quieted as quickly as they had before, without urging from a single soul. Superman had their rapt attention, and he hadn't asked for it.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, former cowboys and cowgirls," he began, his voice carrying easily. Flash wondered if the tremble under his voice was as audible to the man with super-hearing as it was to him, high above his head as a slight chuckle rippled through the crowd, "I address you today with a heavy heart. I want to begin by saying that it has been an honor and a privilege to work with and get to know each of you, brief as the time has been." He paused, panning over the crowd as if trying to meet each individual set of eyes and gauze how well this was coming off as of yet. Flash was sure he saw him glance in his direction briefly, but it had to have only been a trick of the light; he was too far up for Superman to have realized he was there unless he was looking for him.

"I hope each of you cowboys and cowgirls take as much away from this experience as I will."

* * *

"What do I care about Katar's first born son?"

"Well, considering he somehow talked their Leaders into giving him inheritance to power rivaling their own sons'…" Brian shrugged.

"We should be at home," Richie sighed, turning to glance at Wally. "Bryant should be in bed, and so should Ishan …"

Brian sucked at his teeth. "I don't like this."

"There's too much going on; anything could happen." Richie shifted uncomfortably at Wally's side.

Chris pulled at one of her ponytails and glanced around. The sky looked as if it was about to rain, but that was nothing new. Thanagarians packed the square, but that wasn't anything new, either. The Elders sitting on their thrones on the raised platform before them was, however. Their eyes were hidden behind their perpetually gleaming golden helmets, but the way they sat with such paternal manners with their own children before them did anything but lead her to believe they were malevolent. Even Katar looked harmless with the small dark green bundle he held in his arms. One of the older Leaders leaned down briefly to a man seated at his feet, and he nodded his head briefly after a quick survey of the crowd.

Chris tugged at Wally's sleeve. "I want to go home, Dad."

"We're working on it," Tim whispered, kneeling down beside her. "Just hold on, ok?" She nodded reluctantly as she directed her attention elsewhere. She took amusement in Brian and Richie's argument, as she always did, though she had yet to figure out why they seemed to have so many issues. A shiver ran down her spine and the noise around them lessened. Suddenly, Brian and Richie were blocked from view by large Thanagarians. She was pushed roughly from Tim's side by a frowning Thanagarian as a few more looked on. The Thanagarian snarled and repeated what it had just said with a frown. Chris felt her heart beginning to speed up as she was scooped up from behind.

"Stay quiet," the Thanagarian carrying her whispered. Her eyes widened as her father disappeared from her sight.

"Put me down!" she scowled at the woman. She glanced ahead, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Brian and Richie. They didn't notice them, still busy bickering though they themselves were far from Tim and Dick by now.

"You _idiots!_" she cried as Brian was abruptly and easily picked up as she had been by the woman.

"Hey, what's –"

"Hello, Brian," she smiled, and Chris felt herself screaming silently as neither Brian nor Richie made any effort to get away.

"What's going on?"

"If you'd wait just a few moments, you will see." The woman kneeled down, and without a moment's hesitation, Richie climbed on her back. Chris noted the swift movement of the Thanagarians and humans alike as they carefully avoided letting their gazes wander to the four of them and the woman made her way through the crowd and behind the platform. They climbed the empty steps of the Record building the crowd had been gathered before, and to the first extensive chamber, lit with dwindling candles. They stopped in the second of the numerous column encircled courtyards down the center of the rows of faintly gleaming desks. She put them down gently, then swiftly removed her helmet, shaking out her shoulder length, midnight hair.

"Do you know what _tyya_means?"

"I have to get back out there," a male voice interrupted. Another Thanagarian stepped out from behind a pillar, trailing Colton. Bryant was in his arms, his crutch-like walking stick held tightly in Raven's hands.

"I wish we didn't have to leave him in the first place."

The woman frowned. "Which do you prefer? One child's safety, or six?"

He didn't respond as he let Bryant down. Raven silently handed him his walking stick, and he snapped the brace back on his arm, went back to learning against one of the columns.

"Wait until after they start to leave; carry that one," he jerked a thumb in Bryant's direction, "and take them directly; stay along the back."

Without another word, he spread his wings and disappeared into the sky through the opening above the courtyard, the woman retreating to the entrance.

They stood in silence.

Chris looked from one to another. "What's going on?"

"We have no say in this, ok? Just do what you're told; you'll be fine," her twin told her none too shortly.

"How can you trust them, Adan?"

"Think; Dad, or Tim, or Dick wouldn't have allowed them to take us at all, let along so easily otherwise," Colton replied.

Brian frowned. "Do you guys hear that?"

Five pairs of eyes swiveled to his face.

"Hear…what?" Raven asked.

Richie closed his eyes, frown lightly lining his brows.

"Is that… a roar?" Colton felt his mouth hanging open.

"No." Richie's eyes snapped open. "…He wants Ishan."

"He _what?!?_" Five voices demanded as one, the echo bouncing about them.

"'Y –you are to us, or against us, you… and –and the half-breed both'; …that's what he said."

Richie coughed as Colton suddenly grabbed his shirt and lifted him, scowling.

"Who?"

"Katar," he coughed again. "He wants Wally to give Ishan to him… 'lay his pledge by the heir in his loyalty'… something like that; I don't know, ok?"

"What?"

"Wally won't let him," Richie gulped. "I …I can't hear anything else; they're too loud!"

"Concentrate!"  
"I am!"

"_Try harder_!" The noise outside the building increased, rising with Richie and Colton's voices, bouncing through the room they stood in. The woman suddenly darted into view, pulling Bryant quickly into her arms.

"We're out of here," she muttered, leading them quickly down the rose of courtyards to the back of the chamber. She turned left, lead them swiftly down narrow, crumbling stone steps and through a heavy door, etched with Thanagarian symbols. They stumbled over themselves in the dark as the stairs twisted and turned and she continued pushing on, pausing occasionally to make sure they were still with her. Suddenly, they fell from the dark to the open, their backs to the still silent building and deafening square. The woman prepared to move again.

"We can't leave!" Chris grabbed Richie, looking to the woman. "They'll kill them."

"They'll kill you, too. We have to go."

Chris glanced pleadingly to the others.

Richie and Brian's gazes briefly met. "Christina, we don't have any say."

She felt her blood drain to her feet as Colton irritably grabbed her hand and dragged her along as they sprinted from the crowd at their feet and down the deserted and unusually lifeless streets.

Richie seemed quieter, suddenly, as the time that had passed began to add upon itself and they slowed down. Children's voices rang faintly in their ears from nowhere, growing as they continued on.

"I swear, I'll tell!" a girl laughed. The fence they'd been walking along was interrupted by an open gate. The laughter ceased abruptly. The boy and girl looked up as the women led them onto the long path through the front yard to the moderate sized house. Brian found himself staring unbelievably into the girl's crystal blue eyes… eyes he'd seen on but one other person before, and that had been nearly five years ago. The air around them stilled.

"Joel? Aubrey?"

The boy turned, his bangs swinging in his dark eyes as he faced the house, but neither answered. A woman appeared in the doorway, hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, a book in her hands that was immediately dropped. The Thanagarian allowed Bryant down, hastily stepping back.

"….My…God…" the woman on the steps breathed.

"….Mom?" the little boy question in confusion.

She rushed down the steps and to them where they'd yet to move. She pulled Chris and Colton to her, hugging them tightly before she finally released them. She remained on her knees, speechlessly as she turned to Bryant.

She hugged him gently before pulling back to look at him. "Oh, you poor baby…" Without a word, Brian instinctively let her pull him into the embrace, too. Raven stared at her quizzically until she let them go, surrendered easily to the soft kiss to her cheek and the warm arms she was pulled into. She squeezed her tightly until she was afraid Raven might not have been able to breathe, then let her go, wiping away a tear on her cheek gently. "My baby," she breathed.

The woman faced Richie. He remained rooted to his spot as his eyes locked on hers. Slowly, his feet carried him to her until they were almost touching. Her hand hesitantly came up to push his hair away from his forehead, resting on his head as his eyes searched her face uncertainly.

"…Richard…" He threw his arms around her neck strongly, a tear slipping down his cheek and onto her shirt.

"Mom."

* * *

"Damn," he muttered, trying to gulp as something rose at the back of his throat. "Had to pick the one with friends…." He hesitantly stepped back, his foot brushing against the tough hide of the Gordanian he'd just knocked unconscious. One of the four, burly, thick shouldered beasts before him flicked out his purple tongue, running it along its thin, bloodthirsty lips before grinning widely. Flash winced as he imagined the dagger tipped fangs sinking in his flesh. They advanced, smiling gleefully. What appeared to be the leader yelled something to him in his own tongue, and the other three yelped excitedly. Flash wasn't sure exactly what was said, but it didn't sound to promising to his health.

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" he jeered. Their laughter stopped. Flash edged farther back, nearly tripping over another body; he didn't take the time to check whether it was Thanagarian or Gordanian. He glanced up as he felt his back press against something smooth and warm. The under side of the ship came into view, the red hull flaming blood in the sunset blanketing the sky. He glanced to his left; the entrance to the ship was open, about two-feet over his head. He could probably make that; a bit of calculations, the right boost, a good-timed run, and he was in; just needed a bit of their help to get in and do what Shayera had told him needed doing.

He turned back in time to see two of the beasts charge at him. Quickly sidestepping them, they both passed by him harmlessly. They stumbled blindly, blinking stupidly as Flash appeared behind them abruptly, intending to rid himself of the first. Something spiked flew toward his head, though, interrupting the execution of his plans; it managed to graze him before he spun to his left and out of its direct path and directly into a fist that collided with his left, shaking his ribcage. Flash clutched his side as his legs carried him instinctively to the right and away from the following blow. Angrily, he shook his head, the war cries of the battling warriors surrounding him ringing in his ears.

"Is that all you got?" He spat at the momentarily paused Gordanians. "And here I though you numbskulls were actually something to be afraid of." He took advantage of the slightly blank stares on their enraged faces; one of the beasts found its own, blunt weapon digging crudely into skull. Flash sidestepped to mimic the action on the second, but the beast moved faster than he'd assumed it could, and one of its fists imbedded itself again in Flash's gut.

"_Twerl__," _Flash coughed as he sunk to his knees and glared up at them through the swaying vegetation now above his head. He wasn't sure why he'd remembered the insult he'd been on the receiving end of more than once, just then, but it was doing what it needed to.

_Angrier…_

They apparently understood at least some Thanagarian, because their green faces were becoming purple. The leader raised its mace-like weapon over his head, bellowing in anger as it brought it down. Flash rolled to the side quickly. A sickening crunch split the air, and a howl followed it. Black bit at the edges of his vision as the wild howls of the Gordanians above him continued. A bolt of pain shot through his right leg, effectively paralyzing him as he lay on his left side. The cold blades of the grass of the fields they fought in that were crushed down by his weight bit the exposed portion of his face as he pushed back a howl of his own. His arms continued to clutch his leg as the beast rose the weapon again. The black spikes swam into Flash's view, and the pain intensified at the promise of them digging into his skin, obvious from the grotesque smile on the beast's face. He braced himself for the impact that never came. There was an irate roar and the quick, dull successions of body hitting metal.

"Wally!"

"Shy?" His tightly shut eyelids contracted again as slender fingers brushed over his knee. He screamed.

"Damn," she glanced around herself. "You can't stay here…"

"Don't!" He pulled her by her forearm as she tried to stand.

"Wally…I have to move you," she repeated patiently. "This is going to hurt; your knee's completely shattered…" she muttered to herself, linking her arms under his. She pulled him, his head braced against her abdomen as he silently screamed, his body being drug over the sharp-bladed grass bending to his mass.

"Let me go!" he yelled at her.

"I can't let you keep fighting." She drug him haphazardly into a ditch and leaned him against one of the grassy sides stained red.

"Tim will have to check out your leg when you get back –"

"I can't let you go."

"You can't get anywhere near the mother-ship in this condition, much less into it and to the control room to –"

"I promised," Wally whispered as he winced. "I promised him I'd watch out for you."

"You promised me you'd watch out for _him_, Wally," she replied, grabbing one of his hands with both of hers. "Promise me."

"Shy –"

"_Tyya_ say it." He turned his head from her. "Wally, do you understand what that means? Show me if you do; show me you understand."

"…_Tyya__."_

"That's your word."

"That's my promise by my word," he inhaled shakily. "It's cold."

Shayera brought one of her hands to gently trace his jaw. She shook her head sadly. "Their weapons are poisoned."

"I lied; you're making me lie."

She didn't respond.

"Don't."

She wiped at her eyes, threatening to form tears.

"I'm sorry."

"Please."

"Close your eyes." Slowly, her hand made it to the side of her black pants, toward the mace that had been re-clipped to her belt loop. Her fingers traced down he handle to a small niche, and with a slight tug, she flipped the switch held within it. A miniscule section of the handle top was raised from the smooth surface, and she removed it, revealing the thin bit that ran the length of the handle, ending in a needle-sharp apex. It glowed a slight red as she briefly fingered the metal; she pressed the tip swiftly through the bloodied fabric of his leg and below the shattered knee. It sunk in easily, and the glow fell from it, traveling his leg and encasing his body. He didn't scream. Even behind the mask, she could tell his eyes were trained heavily on her until his lids became too heavy and his eyes slipped closed. The glow fell from him.

She pressed an ear to his chest, listening for his heartbeat. She pulled back and pushed his mask from his pale face, the material sticking to his sweaty skin. She pulled the com-link from his ear and opened it, facing the blinking red light of the tracking device inside. The device was removed carefully and its case pulled apart to open it; her thin fingers disconnected two of the entangled wires without hesitation. She slipped a small, black, ticking box between the two of them. The blinking stopped, and she replaced both before pulling his mask back over his face, slipping the rod back into the mace handle, and standing silently.

"…Let him know that I still love him, Wally."

She placed her mace at his side and spread her wings, taking flight above the body filled ditched and the blood bathed fields. The battle was on the ground for now, but she wasn't concerned with that. She flew overhead the fighting, moving as fast as she could, never letting her gaze wonder from her goal. She dodged the occasional blows thrown in her direction, kept those on her tail with murder in their eyes at her heels and no closer.

She muttered a curse in frustration; the opening to the ship was closing. Fast. She dove for the shrinking entrance, tucking her wings to her body. The counterclockwise rotating doors came together, snipping at her feet. Spreading her wings again, she pulled out of the roll, soaring down the dark corridor as the tell-tale sounds of the Gordanians that were unable to pull up in time hitting the now closed entrance ringing around her. Instincts kicked in as the corridor finally ended, branching into four larger ones. Choosing the second from the left, she soared onward, the blue illuminated gray panels floating bass her in a blur until it abruptly ended, but she was prepared for it, and her wings took her upward, bringing her face to face with a small panel divided into numerous squares, each bearing a different Gordanian symbol. Shayera's fingers brushed over the appropriate buttons without her mind pausing to contemplate the possible combinations; she already knew the correct one. The panel split into four parts that receded into the walls of the corridor. Shayera floated into the large chamber the panels revealed.

"Lieutenant."

Shayera didn't bother turning around to face the creature as she landed easily on the tiled floor and walked the control room to a low set panel in the back wall. His voice was deep, jagged as a shard from a broken window, hard and hollow as a rotted log when he spoke, the tangled accent almost too thick to understand.

"I've got a job to do; you can let me do it in peace, or go about it the hard way," she shot over her shoulder as she knelt before the panel and automatically typed out the sequence to command the beginning of the warriors' self-destruct. The room around them began to glow purple and the floor beneath her pulsed. Suddenly, she found herself turned around and lifted, pressed against the cold, purple bathed wall.

"Forgetting something?" The Gordanian smiled wickedly, reaching under his armor and removing a strand of small, black spheres.

Shayera narrowed her eyes. "Don't need it."

"'s right; you know what this is, don't you?" He pressed one of the smooth spheres to her cheek. Shayera turned her head from the burn. "Cold?"

"Go to hell."

"Not yet, darling," he smiled. "'s water; straight from the B'rgh, ta be 'xact. Ya need it ta trigger the self-destruct in the Black Wings."

Shayera didn't respond.

"The majority of us aren't stupid, ya know."

"Just most."

"'got spunk; no wonder yer one of the Carriers," the Gordanian bristled slightly, his gleaming black wing twitching. "No, dear, we'd be mad ta train the strongest of our species ta kill relentless, knowing fully well that their intelligence and ability ta determine between right and wrong is all but non-existent, and not be sure ta have a fail-safe." He squeezed one of the beads between the sharp, black fingernails of his forefinger and thumb. Dark red dripped to his fingers, and the sphere shrank to a small, translucent material. "You've, of course, been taught how ta carry out the procedure?"

"While your species might not hold the talent to recovering information and utilizing it, mine does; it's part of the training."

"Of course; only ten fer ever generation, though? Hand-picked, correct? Determined at the time of yer…_Trials, _are they?" he burst two more of the miniscule spheres in his palm. "Yer running out of time, but it'd be a shame for us ta not talk. Now, yer blood; what 'xactly's in it?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"'mittedly, Lieutenant, yes. However, 's of my superior's curiosity I ask."

"Figures; everyone answers to a higher power."

"Myself included. As I was saying, yer fiancé was one once, was he not?"

"I am not his."

"'s not anymore, is he? What happened?" he continued questioning as if she hadn't spoken. "Let me try this again. What is it… in yer blood... that mocks B'rgh's water?" His eyes searched hers for a moment, then his face creased into a frown, and he squeezed her throat tighter. She gasped slightly as his nails bit into her neck, more from want of air than actual pain.

"_What _does yer blood give that is needed ta complete the process?_ What _is it yer blood contains that holds the same as the waters from the very _heart_ of _our_ home world? _I lose my patience, Lieutenant_." His voice was much lower now, less distinguishable, and she had to strain slightly to understand his questioning. Shayera winced as the fingernails dug deeper into her skin.

"Tell me!"

"Kill me, you lose. Let me live, you lose," she managed. "Your choice."

His eyes widened in rage, and he yelled, throwing her to the other side of the room. Shayera didn't stand immediately.

"Up! Get up!" he bellowed, stalking toward her.

"You really want to know?" she smiled, pushing herself to her feet slowly. His advance was halted as Shayera came chest to chest with him. She tugged the dagger from his belt; he twitched slightly as her fingers brushed over his skin, and he tossed her again to the panel. She moved to stand, but he was already lifting her up along the wall again, pinning her by her neck. Shayera merely raised her right hand between them, still clutching the dagger. She slid the tip of it into her index finger, drawing blood.

"There is nothing in my blood," she chuckled, dropping the dagger to her floor and her arm to her side, right above the panel. "My blood runs from my heart; my heart is pure."

"You, who betrayed two worlds, pure? Give what ya say is true, yer blood is useless."

Shayera didn't respond, merely glanced at the floor. He his gaze following hers to the tile she'd kneeled upon before the panel, where her blood had just dropped, was continuing to slowly fall in miniscule drops, and was running its way slowly through the engravings in the tile. He released his hold and she slid to the ground where she sat, watching lazily.

"We'll see. You know…I'd ask where you get your information since you obviously lack the skills needed to determine any of what you think you know, but I'm already aware of that." She drew up one of her legs, dropping her arm easily across her knee and tilting her head to the side slightly.

He removed the sword at his side from its thick, black sheath, the blade shaking with the sword in his hands.

"I think… you deserve to know: most of it's lies."

"_My orders for ya, Lieutenant, are dead, not alive_," his voice shook, rising from its barely audible state to a roar that filed the now glowing red room. "_Dead, not alive_."


End file.
